Hope's Weakening Resolve
by Lady Selan
Summary: This story provides more depth to the plot of Dragon Quest 1, particularly of the romance between the Hero and Princess Gwaelin.
1. Prologue: A Royal Abduction

Prologue-A Royal Abduction

A friendly breeze drifted through the room stirring Princess Gwaelin. She slowly opened her eyes and was greeted by a ray of sunlight protruding through a gap in the crimson curtains. Yawning, she used her arms to position herself upright on her bed. Her pale, baby soft legs stretched to meet her silk slippers, and she stood just as a handmaiden entered the room.

"Good morning, my lady!" the handmaiden cheerfully greeted as she walked to the window and drew the curtains. The individual ray of sunlight now merged with several rays, casting the room in daylight.

"Morning, Ellen," Princess Gwaelin replied, trying to sound just as cordial.

Ellen glanced at the princess, a look of concern etched on her face. "Still not sleeping, my lady?"

_Must you remind me? _Princess Gwaelin sighed. "I look rather frazzled, don't I?" It sounded more self-depreciating than she intended.

"I meant no offense..." Ellen began.

"I'm sorry, Ellen," Princess Gwaelin quickly interjected. "That was quite ill-mannered of me and I appreciate your concern. I managed to rest for a few hours last night, but I am still worried."

"About your father?" Ellen asked as she moved towards Gwaelin's wardrobe. Although her back was to Gwaelin, she felt her nod solemnly. Ellen recalled the day Gwaelin's mother, the queen, passed away. Although it was many years ago, the king still dwelled upon that day. Gwaelin knew her father was upset, but he never spoke of that day to anyone. It was as if he was hesitant to upset Gwaelin not realizing that his pensive silence was the cause of Gwaelin's distress.

Ellen selected an ivory long-sleeved gown amongst the numerous other dresses. "Would this outfit please you, my lady?" she asked, glancing up to judge Gwaelin's reaction.

Gwaelin was staring absentmindedly out the window. After a moment, she turned and smiled politely at Ellen. "It would Ellen, thank you."

Ellen beamed and drew the curtains again to provide Gwaelin some privacy. She turned to leave before stopping in her tracks. "Oh, I almost forgot. Sir Erik requests your presence in the gardens."

Gwaelin groaned before she could stop herself. "Of all the nerve! How many times must I tell him I am not interested?"

Gwaelin pictured Erik with his handsome stature that failed miserably to conceal his smug nature. Months ago she had one dinner with him, mistakenly thinking he would realize how incompatible the two of them were. What Gwaelin failed to take into account is that a self-centered person such as Erik cannot fathom any desires beyond his own. Her one evening with him had been as effective as dousing a fire by casting the spell of fireball. What had begun as mild interest on Erik's part advanced to professed love, which he alerted her of almost daily. Worst of all, her father approved of Erik! Erik happened to be the strongest of all of Tantegel's soldiers and thus it was difficult to encourage anyone, especially her father, to see beyond that evident power.

Ellen's face flushed. "I-I..." she stammered.

_Oh dear, I've done it again! _"Ellen, please do not take it personally. I'm just frustrated by a number of things at the moment." Gwaelin drew Ellen into a light embrace, and unsure whether she should return the embrace, Ellen simply remained stationary. By the time she finally lifted her arms, Gwaelin released her.

"Please do not speak of this to anyone," Gwaelin confided to Ellen.

Ellen nodded. "Of course, my lady."

"Thank you Ellen," Gwaelin said softly. "I am so blessed to have you as a friend."

* * *

Orsted lunged his weapon at the enemy, sidestepping as the enemy countered with an assault of its own. The enemy, not anticipating Orsted's sudden evasion, provided Orsted with the opportunity he needed. Seizing the moment, Orsted launched a final blow to the enemy, vanquishing it. Orsted paused a moment to wipe his brow, before stooping to retrieve his bamboo pole from the now puddled slime. The bamboo pole, having seen the last of its days, snapped as soon as Orsted contacted it. Orsted cursed to himself before flinging the useless stick to the woods before him. The pole emitted a crack as it impacted a tree before settling in some brush.

Glancing into the dark, ominous woods, Orsted pondered the sudden appearance of these creatures. Over the past few days he had encountered not only slimes, but ghosts and drakees in overwhelming abundance and power. A mercenary, Orsted had never envisioned himself fleeing from bats or believing in ghosts, but their aggression had no sympathy for lack of belief. Orsted sighed and sauntered back to his cabin. It was there that he encountered a soldier bearing a message that would forever change his life.

* * *

"You look ravishing, my lady," Erik said as he reached for Gwaelin's hand and brought it to his lips.

"Thanks," Gwaelin replied curtly. "Now what did you wish to speak with me about, Sir Erik?"

Erik smiled coyly and reached for her other hand. Gwaelin, however, pulled away. "Sir Erik, if this meeting concerns what I think it does I've already told you I'm not-"

"That's quite alright," Erik interrupted. "I have other matters to discuss with you this fine morning."

_Well then out with it already! _"Please enlighten me," Gwaelin replied.

"The King has requested a favor of me..." Erik paused as if contemplating his words, but Gwaelin was not deceived by his melodramatics. She knew Erik did not consider the impact his words or actions had on others.

Erik reached for a pink rose that budded in the bush before him. With a swift motion he plucked his newfound treasure and brought it before her. "This rose is symbolic of our relationship. It has barely begun to-"

"Sir Erik!" Gwaelin interrupted, seeing where this was going, "I have already told you I am not interested in-"

"Let me finish," Erik interrupted again.

"Sir Erik..."

"Let me finish," he firmly repeated.

Gwaelin sighed and glanced momentarily at the various flora and herbs that surrounded her. Tantegel's garden was renowned for its beauty and travelers would often come seeking the rare herbs and flora. Gwaelin noticed the garden's exit that had been blockaded since that fateful day the DragonLord stole the Ball of Light and monsters returned to the world of Alefgard. None had been able to recover the Ball of Light from the DragonLord, and his power continued to grow. It would not be long until the world she had known and would one day rule would be overrun by monsters.

_Oh poor father! I know how stressed he has been since that day. If only I were his son instead of his daughter. Maybe then I could help retrieve the Ball of Light. _Gwaelin thought.

She glanced longingly again at the exit. _If only..._ she thought again, although this time more in relation to her present circumstance.

"Go ahead," she surrendered to Erik.

"The rose has barely begun to bud and will unfortunately never bud now that I've plucked it. Such is the fact of life..." he said so somberly that if Gwaelin hadn't known him she would have been tempted to reach out and comfort him. "But there is hope!" he exclaimed and dropped the unblossomed rose.

"Your father has asked me to embark on a quest to retrieve the Ball of Light. Do not be disheartened, my lady, for I will travel with several other of the most skilled guards, though none as skilled as I," he scoffed.

"Be prepared, for when I return our relationship shall begin a new course such as represented by this!" He removed a seed from his pocket and offered it to her. "Plant this, my beloved Gwaelin, and fear not for I shall return when it has grown."

Gwaelin pondered for a moment before reaching to Erik's hand as if to accept the seed. He beamed, flashing a set of perfectly aligned teeth, a rare commodity in Alefgard. Gwaelin's delicate hand met his, and she closed Erik's fingers around the seed. He gazed at her perplexedly.

"Forgive me for being frank, Sir Erik, but if you hoped to effectively represent our relationship, you might have tried a thorn," Gwaelin spoke soberly.

Erik smirked. "Well if you prefer imagining me as the gardener who will remove the thorns from our yet to bud relationship then..."

_I would rather lay in a thousand thorns then to ever go near you or your seed. _"No," Gwaelin interrupted. "I prefer not to imagine us having a relationship," she matter of factly said and then turned to leave.

Erik suddenly clutched her arm. His face was flushed and Gwaelin knew she had spoken too freely. "Your father also said I am like the son he never had. You would do best to remember that I always get what I desire."

Erik released her arm, and there were red imprints where his fingers had gripped. The imprints quickly began to vanish, but Gwaelin rubbed her arm once where they had been before fleeing the gardens. As she left, she felt his smug grin branding her back.

* * *

Orsted dipped a ladle into the well and offered it to the parched soldier. The soldier gulped eagerly for he had traveled across Alefgard. A drop dribbled down his chin, which he wiped with a coarse hand caked with dirt. A streak of dirt appeared on his face, but the soldier didn't seem to notice or care. He rested his spear against the well and turned to face Orsted.

"How may I help you?" Orsted questioned.

The soldier met Orsted's gaze. "My lord, you are Orsted, descendant of Erdrick?"

Orsted was taken aback that this lone guard knew his identity. He nodded in confirmation hoping his questions would be answered soon.

"My lord, you must accompany me to Tantegel Castle! Alefgard is in danger. You may have noticed," he glanced at a spot of slime on Orsted's pants, "but monsters are prominent in the lands. This is because the Ball of Light, the light Erdrick used to defeat the DragonLord centuries ago, has been reclaimed by the DragonLord. Without this light, monsters will reappear and Alefgard will be overrun by darkness and demons!" the guard spoke with such urgency in his voice that it took Orsted a moment to catch it all.

"Listen...you must be mistaken. I am Orsted, but I am not-"

"Please sir!" the soldier interrupted. "The DragonLord's power grows by the minute!"

"I am sorry to hear that, but you must understand...I am just a mercenary. I know little of battling monsters," he said recalling his battle with the slime.

The guard's brows raised, displaying his appall. "How can you deny your duty?"

Orsted spoke without thinking. "My duty is for me to decide!"

The guard nodded and ran a hand through his gray hair. All was silent except for the occasional rustle of the brush or chirp of a bird. The silence lasted for many moments before anyone spoke.

"Sir Orsted, you are right. It was wrong of me to try to guilt you into action or assuming you don't have plans for your life already. Forgive me for my insolence. I only ask that you consider this matter I am bringing to you. Is that something you are willing to do?"

_How can I say no now? _"Okay..." Orsted replied.

"Besides your ancestry you share a common bond with Erdrick. Each of his descendants has the ability to develop great power. You say you know nothing of battling monsters, but this link you have to Erdrick will permit you to wield his weapons and armor. Foreseeing potential danger in the future, it is rumored that Erdrick placed a seal on his weapons and armor that permit only his descendants to use them. He wanted to be certain the key to vanquishing the DragonLord would not fall into the wrong hands. If that were so, all hope would be lost. While there is a small hope that one can restore peace, it is still a hope we live for, the only one we have. The decision is yours, whether or not you will bear the burden of being that hope."

_Well, since you put it that way..._ "No, I am sorry. That is a responsibility I cannot bear. I would not wish for you or Tantegel to waste funds or support on me. Your support would rest better on someone more skilled than I. My place is here, and my duty is to support the creatures and nature of this forest. I am sorry that you traveled this great distance to locate me. You are free to spend the night if you wish, but that is my answer," Orsted spoke confidently.

The guard nodded and smiled bitter-sweetly. "Very well. I respect your decision even if earning my respect was not a concern of yours. Should you happen to change your mind, Tantegel is located in the south. Follow the grass fields...you cannot miss it. I will be departing now, but I thank you for the hospitality you extended."

Orsted smiled politely. "Farewell."

"Fare thee well, Sir Orsted."

With that, the guard turned and backtracked across the grassy plains. Orsted watched him until he was no longer in sight. Then, returning to his work, he wondered if he made the right decision despite his prior confidence.

* * *

Gwaelin sat on the floor, secluded in one of the castle corridors. She hugged her knees to her chest and shuddered as she reflected on her encounter with Erik. _Why had he been so crude? _Her thought was abandoned as she heard a scream. Alert, she stood and immediately heard another petrified scream. She ran to investigate, and as she turned the corner, had no time to add a scream of her own to the terrifying symphony. She was clapped on the head and swiftly carried away by a group of monsters.

* * *

King Lorik tried desperately to escape the confines of his chambers. "Release me! I need to find Gwaelin!" he commanded the sentries barricading him in his room.

"I am sorry, my liege," one of them replied, "but there are monsters inside the castle and we must defend you."

As much as he badgered the guards, threatening to deprive them of their jobs, they would not relent. King Lorik was not freed from his room until the monsters retreated. As soon as he had news of the retreat, he fled his chambers searching and interrogating everyone on Gwaelin's whereabouts. None knew, and it wasn't until the king approached the healer's room that he happened upon a guard who had seen Gwaelin. The guard had suffered a severe wound to his abdomen, and his survival did not seem likely. Nevertheless, the king demanded to know everything the guard knew despite his condition.

"She...was...cap-cap-captured...by...mon-...sters," the guard gasped. "They...to-to-took...her...thro-thro-through..." by now his voice was merely a whisper.

"Yes?" the king urged him to continue.

The guard spat up blood and lift his head to meet the king's gaze. "The garden."

The guard's head fell onto the pillow and his eyes rolled back as he breathed his last. The king was so grief stricken that it took him days to remember to follow-up and ensure the guard had a proper burial. King Lorik organized a search party headed by Erik before retiring to his chambers. He did not emerge for days, and when he finally did, he spoke of his grief to no one.

* * *

Gwaelin awoke in a dim room. Her eyes focused and as she lifted her head to glance around, she was startled by a sudden ache. She let her head return to its prior position and observed the room as best she could. Above her was a canopy with thick curtains tied on the edges. To her left were two torches, barely lighting the room. In front of her was a painting with the grotesque face of a goblin. The goblin was of short stature and held a scepter in one hand. As much as she tried to avert her eyes, she found it difficult for she always caught a glimpse of it. Suddenly, the goblin moved, or so she thought. Was she going crazy? She stared at the goblin and gasped as he blinked. She was sure of it now!

"I see you are awake," a voice spoke. The goblin?

"Who...who are you?" Gwaelin's voice tremored.

A laugh. "I am the one in front of you of course." The goblin closed the space between them and suddenly she found herself gazing onto the face of not a goblin, but the DragonLord! She gasped and sat upright, forgetting her pain.

The DragonLord grinned, revealing a set of jagged teeth. Each tooth was triangular and seemed adept at single-handedly tearing a man to pieces. Gwaelin opened her mouth.

"Go ahead, scream," the DragonLord said, reading her mind. Gwaelin paused, her mouth gaping. "None will hear you from behind these walls."

Gwaelin stood and hustled to the door. She opened it, surprised to find it unlocked, but had her answer after a few steps. There before her was an enormous dragon! The dragon turned its head and prepared to snap at her. Slamming the door, Gwaelin immediately returned to the room and found the DragonLord chuckling. Infuriated, she felt her eyes moistening and she could do little to prevent the hysterical tears from emerging. Quickly, she lowered her head, not wanting him to see her so vulnerable.

"My dear, there is a way out," the DragonLord's deep voice sounded surprisingly soothing.

Gwaelin glanced up apprehensively. "How?"

"Be my queen."

Gwaelin could not prevent her gasp. "Never!" she spoke more courageously than she felt.

"I thought you would say that," he said matter of factly, "which is why I am leaving you here. Give it some thought. You will find I am very patient, but you would do best not to test that for too long."

With a glow of his scepter, he vanished, leaving Gwaelin to her thoughts. She immediately plunged on the bed and buried her face in her pillow, sobbing.

* * *

Six months later

Ever since the guard's visit, Orsted had taken an interest in training. He visited the town of Garinham regularly and studied the guards' postures and stances as they sparred outside. He began imitating those stances when he encountered monsters and found in doing so that he slayed them with greater ease. However, despite his growing confidence, monsters were still prominent and in seemingly greater numbers than before. Mercenary work, also, was infrequent and Orsted feared he would soon be completely out of a job.

_What would be the harm in just taking a look at Tantegel? They would pay for some of my funds and support me as I trained. _

No, those were purely selfish reasons. If he were to be Alefgard's last hope, it would have to be for truly altruistic purposes. Satisfied with that notion, he exited Garinham and continued to his cabin. Suddenly, he paused sensing something was amiss. Standing in place, he used each of his senses to investigate. The meadow was serene, and every so often a critter would emerge from the woods to graze, but fled as soon as Orsted moved. Every one of his senses verified that there was no threat, but something did not feel right. He resumed walking, picking up his pace until he was nearing a sprint. As he approached his cabin, he saw smoke.

_A campfire? No, that's too much smoke. What then?_

Soon he was upon his cabin and what he feared was true. His cabin was ablaze! He sprinted across the meadow, but by the time he reached his cabin, it was too late. It soon collapsed into a pile of smoking debris. Enraged, Orsted clenched his fists, scrutinizing the meadow for the source of this destruction. As if the source were also seeking him, his eyes met with those of a magician's. The magician grunted and hurled a fireball at Orsted. Orsted barely leaped out of the way. He took a moment to glance at the spot he had just stood and found it completely charred! He had never encountered a magician before, and always intended to run if he did. Before he could experience another moment of hesitation, Orsted charged, weaponless, towards the magician. He released all of his rage on the magician, but it was not nearly enough. The magician launched an assault of his own, easily rendering Orsted's feeble attacks. Orsted's pain was abolished by the welcome lull of unconsciousness.

* * *

"What news do you bring of my daughter?" King Lork asked Erik. The King's eyes shone with what Erik recognized was his last ray of hope. Despite his narcissistic character, Erik still felt a twinge of guilt for the news he was about to reveal.

"My liege, we searched and questioned all of Alefgard and have turned up nothing more than a few leads. Every lead was unreliable and many who followed those leads never returned." Erik spoke, defeated.

"I see..." the King said distantly. The spark of hope in his eyes was replaced with the sunken hollowness that only despair can bring.

"My liege," Erik began, "I wish I had more to offer you, but alas all of my men are exhausted and disheartened. We do not have any more to spare. I am sorry..."

The King shook his head. "No Erik, you have served me well. I thank you for all of your efforts. Please rest for as long as you need."

"Very well, my liege." Erik bowed and exited the throne room.

The King retired to his chambers as a lone tear slid down his cheek.

* * *

The DragonLord made his weekly appearance in the room. "It has been six months...will you stand by my side as my queen?"

"No..." Gwaelin tried to found forceful, but it came out as a croak. _Can he sense my weakening resolve? _

To an observer, Gwaelin's resolve appeared as strong as ever, but only she knew better. At first, refusing had been easy because she held unto the hope that she would be rescued. With each passing day, Gwaelin's hope dwindled, and now all she had was her ever diminishing willpower. How much longer could she refuse?

The DragonLord was pacing. "Princess, I don't understand. I have offered you power, wealth, freedom and yet you still refuse. I cannot fathom what it is that is responsible for this resistance. Surely not rescue, for none is strong enough to overcome my dragon. Tell me, my dear, what is it?"

Gwaelin remained silent.

"Fine, do not tell me. Soon you will realize how tempting my offer is. Once I find what it is that is preventing your acceptance, I will make it so you can resist anything but temptation."

Gwaelin feared that time would come soon.

* * *

Orsted regained consciousness to find a pair of concerned sapphire eyes gazing at him. The person jumped back in alarm as Orsted regarded him.

"You're alive! I assumed the worst when I saw you lying out here," a masculine voice spoke.

Orsted, struggling to keep his arms stiff, finally propped himself to a seated position. _How long have I been out?_

"Careful, sir! I cast a healing spell as soon as I saw you, but that was the extent of my magical abilities. I fear it may not be enough."

Orsted nod his head and slowly arose. "I thank you kindly..."

"It was no trouble," the man reached a hand to steady him. "Was that your house?"

"Yes, it was..." Orsted said, more to convince himself than the stranger.

"That's such a shame. I lost my house and family to a group of monsters," he paused. "I was distraught and contemplated suicide every day, but I pressed on."

Orsted turned again to gaze at the man in wonder. "If you don't mind my asking, what encouragement did you find in that?" He motioned to the pile of debris.

"Hope." Orsted almost grimaced at the predictable answer before the man continued. "But moreso that I might live to see the day when peace was restored. My family and I always mused on that thinking how wonderful it would be. I myself can do little in the way of battle, but even saving a life," he looked meaningfully at Orsted, "is worth pressing on for. I believe that if everyone were to sacrifice and contribute as much as they could, peace may not be such a pipe dream. Nevertheless, I decided it was selfish that I shouldn't live on with the small hope that our family dream may be achieved. Even if it is just a pipe dream, I fear I could not face my family in the afterlife without having tried."

Orsted began walking. "Thank you again for your kindness."

"Where are you going?" the man called after him.

"To Tantegel," Orsted replied.

"But that's a four day walk!" the man objected.

"Then I can run it in half that time!" With that, Orsted sprinted south.

* * *

"My liege, you have a visitor," a servant addressed the king.

The king, eyes downcast, shook his head. "Please leave me be. I wish to see no one today."

"But your majesty," the servant persisted, "this is Orsted, descendant of Erdrick!"

The king's head shot up. "Show him in!"

And thus the quest begins...

* * *

**A/N: The hero has no official name that I could find, so I named him Orsted because it's an old English name and I felt it suits him well.**


	2. Keep Your Enemies Closer

Keep Your Enemies Closer

"Ah, Orsted, legendary descendant of Erdrick, we have been awaiting your arrival for some time now..." the King paused and regarded Orsted's kneeling form carefully. "The DragonLord's power is rapidly increasing and soon our world will be engulfed in darkness. Arise, Sir Orsted."

Orsted cautiously raised his downcast head noticing first the King's royal garments. He wore a golden crown with various jewels aligning the top that Orsted suspected had taken years to craft. His silk crimson robe tried to conceal his stocky, plump form, but the attempt was too obvious. As Orsted stood, his eyes rose again to meet the King's. Reflected in his gray eyes was a fatigue that appeared years old. The King, now sure he had Orsted's attention, continued.

"Orsted, please go forth and recover the Ball of Light. If you open the chests over there," he pointed with his scepter behind Orsted, "the contents should aid you on your journey. I wish there was more we could provide you, but our funds are limited. Should you need more information, speak with the soldiers in the castle...they will be able to give you some valuable insight. Well then...be off, brave Orsted!"

_He says it so nonchalantly. _Orsted rose and gratuitously bowed to the king. He collected the torch and few gold pieces within the chest and carefully placed them within his knapsack. Surprised the king did not supply him with a weapon, Orsted planned to obtain one in the town he noticed next to the castle. Preparing to exit, Orsted paused as the chancellor gestured to him, beckoning him over. Orsted casually approached, unsure what business the chancellor had with him.

"Sir Orsted," the chancellor softly spoke. "Do you know of Princess Gwaelin?"

Orsted shook his head, having never heard the name before. His business as a mercenary usually kept him out of politics, but while he had a legit excuse, he still felt sheepish. The chancellor looked appalled, but resumed speaking after a moment.

"She is the King's only daughter..." he trailed off afraid the King was eyeing him. He continued after a moment, lowering his voice further. "About a half year ago the castle was invaded and she was taken hostage. We've organized search party after search party, but none knows where she is. Please sir, rescue the Princess!" he exclaimed, almost too loudly. "The King never speaks of it, but as his closest adviser I know he is grief stricken. I understand your main quest is to defeat the DragonLord, but you may find rescuing the Princess will prepare you to face the DragonLord. Please at least keep an eye out for her."

Orsted nodded, feeling overwhelmed with all of his new responsibility. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

Erik paced in an alcove next to Tantegel's renowned fountain, trying unsuccessfully to calm his rage. The King refused to see him today, which was fairly normal behavior as of late, but he graced the audience of an outsider. Then to add to the offense, he gave this outsider some funds from the royal treasury. What was the King thinking? Tantegel was now in debt to all of the towns in Alefgard. Erik didn't care if the outsider was a descendant of Erdrick, the King could not afford to be generous with the treasury...not to mention wasting generosity on a weakling such as the outsider! Erik considered approaching the king with his concern, but thought better of it. He would let the outsider fail in hope that the king would realize that strength does not correlate with lineage. Determination and willpower are the true strength of a soldier, and Erik had... He paused as a man garnered in ragged travel clothes and a pack strolled past. The pack clanked in unison with each of the man's even strides, and his steady rhythm broke only when he bent his stalwart form to retrieve a gold piece from the floor. _That must be him!_ _Why not give him a little advice to introduce his journey?_

"Ho, you there!" Erik called. The man turned and gazed at Erik perplexedly. "I have never seen you before. How do I know you are not a minion of the DragonLord?"

Unperturbed, the man stood his ground. "Sir knight, you may call me Orsted. I am on a mission for your King Lorik."

"I didn't ask your name, fool!" Erik snapped. "I asked why I should believe you aren't a minion of the DragonLord's!" Erik withdrew his sword, assuming Orsted would flinch. He didn't.

Orsted gestured to his worn travelers clothes. "Sir, if I were a minion the DragonLord, would I be parading around in rags such as these, drawing further attention to myself?"

Erik snorted. "Well you could be in disguise."

Orsted nodded, causing a strand of his longish chestnut hair to fall over his right eye. "Well then, the same could be said for you. Good day!"

_Why that pompous, pigheaded...hey! He's getting away! _"Sir, if you please!" he sheathed his sword and called out to Orsted again. Orsted turned, his emerald eyes not betraying the passive expression he wore. "Forgive my insolence...you can just never be too careful nowadays." Orsted did not look convinced.

"Listen," Erik said, walking up to Orsted and placing an arm on his shoulder. "As an apology, allow me to give you some advice for your journey." Erik gazed at Orsted who seemed to be in agreement.

"Have you heard of Princess Gwaelin?" Orsted sighed and nodded. "It is rumored she is in hiding in our neighbor town, Brecconary. We have searched all of Alefgard for her, but she is nowhere to be found. You might try investigating the town. My men and I already have, but we could not locate her. Maybe you will have better luck than us."

Orsted nodded. "Thank you for the advice, sir."

_So naïve. _"Don't mention it. Feel free to approach me if ever you should need anymore advice!"

Orsted smiled pleasantly and made his way to the exit, his even strides continuing the rhythm where it left off. Erik stifled a laugh. _What a fool. This is going to be too easy!_

* * *

Gwaelin shuddered as the dragon devoured another helpless prey. Every so often, monsters would casually saunter through the cavern only to be consumed by the dragon. After a few weeks of her confinement, Gwaelin had the notion that the dragon might not snap at her if its attention was on another prey. It took her another week to develop the courage to attempt her plan. The moment she heard the dragon gnawing on its victim, she peered through the door. Her plan seemed brilliant up until she took a few steps. The dragon immediately dropped its prey, entrails and all, and lunged at her. She was fortunate to have survived, or so she thought then. Now she wasn't so sure. A loud snap echoed, sounding like the breaking of a bone. Gwaelin gasped and shuddered again.

"Please someone save me!" she cried.

Another snap was her answer.

* * *

Orsted was frustrated. He initially felt the king had given him a generous sum of money to purchase supplies, but discovered otherwise upon viewing the selection at the armory. Brecconary's merchants also were not hagglers and expected the payment upfront. In disgust, he finally decided on a club and some clothes to replace his tattered outfit. Feeling rather disheartened, Orsted propped himself beside a grave and reviewed his options. He could request that the king provide him weapons, but if the castle had quality weapons why would the king not lend him one? His only option then was to earn the money he needed. Recalling a bit of information one of the castle guards graced him with on the way out, he knew monsters were responsible for collecting gold for the DragonLord. The stronger the monster, the more gold it was responsible for obtaining. Orsted would have to battle and eventually gain the experience and confidence necessary for slaying those "wealthy" monsters.

While Orsted was thinking, a young woman approached him. He looked up noticing first her cat-like grace as she subtly swayed her hips. She wore a plain dress that would not have called attention on any other woman, but Orsted suspected that she could make any gown beautiful. She paused in front of him, causing Orsted to stand so he might meet her gaze.

"Well aren't you a handsome fellow. Are you here to rescue me?"

Orsted's expression could not conceal his confusion. "Princess Gwaelin?"

She pursed her lips. "Yes, I am she."

Orsted remained doubtful. "What proof do I have that you are her?"

Her smile suddenly abated and her eyes moistened. "You doubt me?"

Orsted nodded saying nothing.

"You are just like the others then!" she exclaimed hysterically.

Orsted glanced around as people began staring. "The others?"

"Yes!" she sobbed. "The DragonLord cast a spell on me to change my appearance. No one believes me, but I swear it's true!"

Orsted still didn't believe her, but he was ready to play along. "Why haven't you returned to the castle then?"

She sighed, annoyed. "And be mocked? Sir, my own father doesn't even recognize me. Besides, there are monsters out there!"

He prepared to call her bluff. "Alright, then I presume you would like to accompany me to the castle. Surely the king cannot deny you in my presence."

"You would do that for me?" She smiled through her tears.

_She is a great performer. _"Yes."

She squealed in delight. "Then give me your arm and escort me, Sir Knight."

Orsted did not know how far she was willing to carry this ploy, but he was confident she would make a mistake. Or rather he hoped she would...

* * *

Seeing him filled Ellen with hope. He was not like the others who came seeking fame and reward. Upon first glance, one would not have thought that he was a descendant of Erdrick. While his body was toned, it was not nearly as built as those of the castle soldiers, many of whom attempted his very quest. Yet, upon closer inspection, it was evident that he did not rely on brute strength nor try to compensate for it with attitude. He had a quality that few in Alefgard had- honor.

She pictured him so vividly now that she saw him striding through the castle confidently, but with a hint of caution as if he knew not what he was in for. She longed to reach out and invite him into her arms, not out of love for she was not in love with him, but as a source of support. How she longed to ease his anxiety, slight as it may be. She glanced again at him. No, this was not her imagination. He was back! She strode forth to introduce herself to him, but he was intercepted by a guard's sudden appearance.

"Halt!" the guard cried to Orsted. "Guards!" he said, turning to three nearby soldiers. "Arrest this insolent fool!"

"On what charges?" one of the guards questioned.

The accusing guard sneered. "For bringing the impostor into the castle!" He pointed to the woman beside Orsted.

"It's true," the impostor spoke. "I tried to tell him he shouldn't bring me here, but he didn't listen. Oh, but please don't harm him! He only sought the king's favor."

Ellen glanced at Orsted who seemed too dumbfounded to speak. Then to Ellen's horror, the guards obediently bound Orsted's arms behind him and led him away. All eyes were on Orsted and only Ellen saw the impostor turn and smile. Ellen followed the impostor's gaze to an alcove containing Sir Erik's beaming face. Seconds later, the impostor too was escorted away.

_Oh that Erik! _she fumed. _He is going to get his! _Ellen glanced around to make sure she was unnoticed, then quickly walked to the King's chambers.

* * *

Irate, the king clenched his scepter. "I order you to release him!"

"But sir," the guard protested. "I was only following your orders."

The king raised his brows, but the kneeling guard did not notice. "My orders?"

"Yes," the guard spoke apprehensively. "To arrest all who bring the impostor into the castle."

In his bafflement, the king raised his voice. "I never gave such orders! I only said that I never wished to entertain the impostor's audience again. Who gave you such orders?"

"Y-you did, your majesty," the guard stammered.

"Lloyd, do not patronize me. I am right in front of you telling you I delegated no such command! Now tell me, who was it?"

Lloyd merely cowered.

_What obligation does he have to protect this person? _The king cleared his throat. "Then you shall take Orsted's place until you feel compelled to speak."

* * *

Orsted could not recall a more embarrassing episode in his entire life. He fought the urge to return to Brecconary, locate the impostor and demand an explanation from her. He sobered himself with the fact that he could not believe anything she said. Well, he never had believed her. He had only hoped to call her bluff, and oh how she deceived him! He paused as a red slime approached him. Cocking his arm, he swung his wooden club at the slime. The slime fell in one blow, dissolving into a red puddle resembling blood. Well, one positive result had come of his rage. Orsted certainly had no problem taking his aggression out on monsters!

Nonetheless, another thing puzzled him. What role did Erik have in all of this? Orsted recalled Erik harassing him as he departed the castle. Yes, he had correctly foreseen Orsted's actions, having ample time to prepare the consequences. However, what was the purpose behind this? Surely he had not intended to contain Orsted in prison for more than that day. Did he intend to turn Tantegel against him? That too was doubtful. What then?

Orsted spent the rest of the day slaying monsters and never finding an answer to that question.

* * *

Erik's fencing helmet created a thick sheen of perspiration causing his dirty blond hair to mat to his forehead. Any concern for appearance was lost as he parried another sword thrust. All of his fencing opponents had been too weak, too predictable and ultimately too easy. Growing more disenchanted by the minute, Erik dodged a lunge, then scored his final point on his opponent's abdomen. Erik quickly removed and tossed his helmet aside. He ran a hand through his hair and turned, almost colliding with the messenger.

"Watch where you're going!" Erik barked.

The messenger bowed in apology.

"Well?" Erik gestured impatiently. "Did you spot him?"

The messenger coughed. "I did, sir...he was training in the mountain range to the West."

"Excellent." Erik spoke surprisingly pleasantly. "Take two men with you and release it."

The messenger nodded and cleared his throat. "As it pleases you, Sir Erik."


	3. The Cost of the Price You Pay

The Cost of the Price You Pay

Orsted crouched by the lake and dipped his empty canteen in the water. As the canteen filled, a beam of bubbles shot to the surface disturbing the serene lake. Orsted patiently waited for the bubbles to cease, before eagerly lifting the canteen to his cracked lips. The setting sun cast shadows of trees, flora and birds all about Orsted. It was moments like these that one had to be reminded of the DragonLord's threat.

A sudden and boisterous crack resounded through the mountain range, and Orsted ceased guzzling his water. He remained still, listening. After many moments of silence, he proceeded to refill his canteen when he sensed a strong presence approaching.

A rustle.

His body immediately tensed and the hair on the back of his neck seemed to have grown an inch. Again Orsted surveyed his surroundings finding nothing, yet his body did not relax. Tantegel Castle was at least two hours to the East, but nightfall would be upon him faster. Soon his stalker would also have the cloak of darkness. Still, what choice did Orsted have but to try and outrun this threat?

Hustling footsteps.

He rapidly packed his belongings and began steadily ascending the mountain towards Tantegel. That pace did not last long, and before he knew it, he was sprinting in tune to his pounding heart. The footsteps mimicked his increased pace, sounding closer each time Orsted sped up. Not used to this strain, Orsted's heaving lungs and aching body failed him. He collapsed on the rough, uneven ground beneath him, his muscles unresponsive. Much to Orsted's dismay, whatever or whoever was pursuing him did not seem phased by this uphill climb. Halfway up the mountain with nowhere to hide, Orsted knew he would have to face this threat. He stood, club in hand, in an offensive stance awaiting whatever fate had in store for him.

Then fate appeared in a rather unexpected, but familiar form...a magician drew near.

* * *

"Do you not realize that by denying me you also deny yourself?" The DragonLord glanced at Gwaelin's reclined form. "In Tantegel you were nothing more than an unattainable dream to most men. To those with the power to obtain you, you were only a means to an end to achieving the throne. To both you were placed on a pedestal that grew with your every good deed. I cannot fathom such a stressful life!" The DragonLord shook his head sadly. "As my queen you would not be subject to such demands. You would be free to make mistakes and spared all chastisement. What do you say?"

"Anything is better than being your slave!" Gwaelin spat.

"Slave? My slave?" The DragonLord's grotesque face looked offended. "My dear, do you not realize you are a slave now? A slave to a people who have made futile if no attempt to rescue-"

"That's not true!" Gwaelin interrupted.

"Is it not?" The DragonLord stoically replied. "Has anyone challenged my dragon? I'm serious. Name one time someone has tried to rescue you and I give my word I will release you." The DragonLord paused for many moments watching her. "Silence? My dear, I just asked you a question that will grant you freedom if you answer. Am I supposed to think that you don't desire freedom or that-"

"Stop!" Gwaelin exclaimed near hysteria. "Just stop!" She buried her head under the pillow.

"Of course my dear..." The DragonLord spoke gently. "I shall not deny you anything that is in my power to give."

"Then release me..." Gwaelin's faint voice spoke.

"That, my dear, is up to you."

"Then let me speak with my father..." Gwaelin muffled a sob.

"Again, as my queen you will be free to do as you please."

Gwaelin poked her head out from other the pillow wearing a look of apprehension. "Under your supervision?"

The DragonLord shook his head. "Of course not."

"With my father dead or as captive?"

"Heavens no!" The DragonLord quickly replied.

Gwaelin shook her head. "No, no...you lie."

The DragonLord frowned. "No, you just don't want to believe me."

As much as Gwaelin tried to ignore him, she felt herself beginning to succumb to the DragonLord's logic. She reminded herself that she could not trust anything he said, but that caution was lost within the disappointment she felt at not being rescued and the slight resentment she harbored towards her role that the DragonLord had since magnified during her captivity. Had her people attempted to rescue her and if so, how would she know? She naturally assumed her father had organized a search party, but why had none explored this cavern?

The DragonLord suddenly spoke. "Alas I am needed elsewhere. I bid thee farewell and beg you to reconsider my offer." His standard exit, but Gwaelin seemed as if not to hear it.

These emotions poured out of her as blood pours from an open wound. It was as if in the six months she was held captive, the DragonLord came and opened a wound that had long since been scabbed and unnoticed. Though her initial reaction was to compartmentalize these emotions as one would contain a wound with pressure, she found that she could not. Maybe it was because these six months in this room had sapped her willpower. Maybe it was because there was, much to her dismay, a slight hint of intrigue. She could deny it all she wanted, but the DragonLord's logic made sense. Was she really rejecting the truth?

* * *

As Orsted turned to face the magician he felt, much to his surprise, not fear but courage. At first this onset of courage puzzled him, but now it all made sense. Orsted, dominated originally by his fear, had fled the magician. When escape had failed he had little choice but to fight. While a man with little choice could just as easily be overcome with doubt as with bravery, Orsted took solace knowing that he had heeded his caution and fear. Now that this inevitable confrontation was upon him, he felt comfortable exercising his full ability understanding that he was doing so not in the name of arrogance or folly but necessity.

The magician's dark gaze seemed to penetrate Orsted. He did not make a move for, what to Orsted seemed many minutes, but in reality was only seconds. The magician finally lowered its head and brought its hands together as if in prayer. Not giving Orsted a moment to ponder its strange actions, the magician's clamped hands began to enlarge as a fireball was formed. Orsted sidestepped as this fireball was hurled at him and in a maneuver with impressive agility, brought his club over the magician's head. Swaying slightly, the magician grabbed Orsted with a cloaked hand before he could retreat, and propelled him into an oak tree to the left. Orsted closed his eyes and braced himself for impact, feeling a sharp pain as his back thudded against the tree.

He recalled a time when such a blow would have easily detained him, but his training during the past six months allowed him to receive the blow with greater ease. He stiffened for a moment, then guardedly rose in case of a counter assault. As he expected, the magician threw a fireball at him but Orsted easily dodged. The fireball soared over Orsted's head and took residence in the tree. The tree, in rebellion of this new occupant, was engulfed in flames. Reminded of his cabin home, Orsted desired to aid the tree but the threat of the magician was more of a priority. With renewed anger, Orsted clenched his fists and before he thought better of it, launched a fireball of his own at the magician. The magician, not expecting this attack nor being agile enough, was unable to dodge. The flames engulfed his cloak as it had the tree, and moments later the magician fell helplessly on its knees as the flame continued its merciless scorching.

_Ironic_, he thought, _that this magician should share the same fate as my cabin._

Yet surprisingly, Orsted did not feel vengeful or even a longing for what used to be. He glanced at the tree, and though Orsted did everything in his power to douse the flames, he was ineffective. Smoke disappeared into the now darkened sky, and Orsted began his journey towards Tantegel vowing to himself that he would never regret what had come to pass though he may not understand it at the time.

* * *

"You mean to tell me you didn't stay and watch him?" Erik hissed at the messenger and two fellow guards.

The messenger bowed his head. "No...we were afraid he would see us and besides, it was getting too dark to see...we barely made our way back!"

Erik's face reddened complementing his sleepless eyes. "Fools! Did you not realize that the darkness would conceal you?"

The guards and messenger remained silent and Erik inhaled deeply in exasperation. "Fine, but if you three fail at the next task you will all share Lloyd's fate. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir..." each grimly responded.

* * *

Ellen noticed something different about him this morning. It took her many moments to ascertain what this change was, but it dawned on her as he strode past her. _His stride is unfamiliar...it no longer contains any trace of uncertainty! _She was so elated that she ceased her sweeping long enough for the head maid to notice.

"Get back to work!" she barked. "Or I'll give you nine thrashings!"

Ellen immediately resumed her cleaning, but unbeknownst to the head maid, did not cease her daydreaming. She recalled so vividly the day Princess Gwaelin was captured. Feigning illness, Ellen joined the guards in the search. After countless hours, she had finally resigned to her failure and returned to her bed. She was unable to sleep for days, and as a result she actually did become ill, but the head maid would have none of it. Dazed, Ellen had returned to work, and she could never tell if the incessant fatigue she suffered was due to her illness or her despair and disappointment at the capture of the only one in the castle who dared to call her "friend".

Ellen swept a dust bunny under the rug and continued thinking. Ever since Orsted's appearance, she was filled with an energy that pierced through all of her despair. The head maid at first was delighted at Ellen's renewed energy, but that delight was short-lived as soon as she recognized the source- hope.

Finished, she placed her broom aside and leaned against the wall for a quick breather. _Surely he is capable of rescuing the princess and Alefgard. _

* * *

Orsted admired his new copper sword and leather shield, swinging the blade once before tying it to his belt. The defeat of the magician graced Orsted with the confidence to venture further north from Tantegel Castle. There he had encountered monsters such as drakees, ghosts and even a few magicians that he slayed with greater ease. It elated Orsted to see his progression- monsters that he once fled from now fell victim to his strength. Still, he exercised caution not allowing his improvement to beckon him too far. Recalling the tale of the merchants who fled to Tantegel Castle after their town was destroyed always made Orsted shudder. He would share the same fate as that city if he allowed himself to be deceived beyond his limits.

Emerging from the armory, Orsted used an arm to shade his eyes from the setting sun's persistent rays. He head in the direction of the item shop, and just when he crossed the bridge he collided with someone he had not noticed through his shaded eyes. He gazed down seeing a delicate form on the ground.

"I'm sorry..." he began, stooping down to assist her. As he steadied her he almost did a double take.

"My hero!" she exclaimed, and this lady was a stranger no more.

"Imposter..." he acknowledged dryly.

She pursed her lips. "So it is true...I did deceive you, but only because I was asked to."

"By who?" Orsted questioned before he could stop himself. He already knew the answer, but a part of him wanted it verified.

Her eyes glimmered and she smiled coyly. "I will tell you, but my answer comes at a price." She suddenly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing the neckline of her lavender dress to gape. Though Orsted tried to avert his eyes they naturally dipped towards her cleavage. She inhaled quickly and evenly causing her breasts to rise and fall enticingly. Orsted only glanced for a second before turning shyly. He wallowed in his failure with a blush.

"It seems to me," she paused and lowered her voice to a whisper, "that my price will not be a cost after all." Her breath tickled his ear, causing his spine to tingle. He closed his eyes trying to regain his composure, and as he opened them her lips were on his. As much as Orsted willed himself to pull away he found his muscles were unresponsive. She took another step forward until she was completely molded into him, and her tongue parted his lips. Beckoning his tongue to join hers in a fiery dance of passion, she silently submitted as he forced his tongue in her mouth. The moment she began gently sucking on his tongue is when Orsted felt himself react. Surely by now she too felt the effect she was having on him. As if calling forth a hidden strength, Orsted suddenly reached up and untangled her arms from his neck. He broke the kiss and strode back until he was away from her arm's reach.

She frowned. "My lord, no one would condemn you for accepting my offer not even..." she glanced down at the triumph of her advances, "you."

He shook his head. "You're wrong."

"Am I?" She smiled mischievously and stepped toward him, but this time he was ready. He sidestepped just as she reached for him causing her to lose her balance. She fell right into the pond behind him, her dress inflating around her.

He waited patiently for her to emerge before saying, "Yes, you are."

* * *

"Kneel before me Sir Erik," the king solemnly commanded. Once Erik obliged, he furrowed his brows. "How dare you issue such a command!"

Startled by the king's sudden outburst, Erik trembled once. "My liege...I do not know what-"

The king flushed in fury. "Do not make a mockery of me! I know all about your little ploy on Sir Orsted. I offer you only one opportunity to explain yourself and I warn you..." he paused, his face flushing even more, "If you dare lie to me I shall know."

_If he already knew he wouldn't ask me to explain. _"My liege, I did inform Sir Orsted of the imposter only because I thought he should meet her. I did not intend for him to be deceived, nor think he would actually bring her to the castle. I was so alarmed that I was not considering your will and I offer my sincere apologies." He glanced up sidelong to view the king's expression.

The king's face remained impartial until he spoke. "Enough! I have heard enough! You of all people should know that I do not entertain imposters in my throne." The king paused, catching his breath. Erik seized upon the silence.

"Precisely, which is why I-" he stopped short as the king cast him an arctic look. _He can't mean me..._

"You are hereby relinquished of your duties as captain and I expect there will be no conflicts. Out of respect for your prior position, I will allow you to serve as a soldier, but if you give anyone in this castle any trouble, I will banish you from all of Alefgard. Do I make myself clear?"

In his shock, Erik's voice disappeared. All he could summon was a meek, "Yes."

"Then take your leave. I never wish to look upon you again."

Erik rose, keeping his eyes downcast as he left the throne room. He only lift his head after he heard the click of the door behind him. As his eyes leveled, he met the gaze of a lowly maid sweeping the hall. Normally he would have thought little of such a gaze, but her eyes penetrated him, as if..._as if she knew! _Sure word would get around, but certainly not this quickly, least of all among the maids. Yet he remained puzzled; what grudge could she possibly have against him? Then as if on cue, his thoughts turned to Gwaelin. This was Gwaelin's personal handmaiden! Suddenly, he was no longer ashamed. His plans had not failed. If he was right not only about her identity but about Gwaelin's attachment to her, this turn of events would surely ensure his success and grant him his revenge. Taking a risk, he beamed at her. Her eyes widened in response and she completely ceased her sweeping.

_Yes, bitch, I know. But little do you know your role in my plans. Once you learn, you will regret the day you ever crossed me. _


	4. My Patience is Thinning

My Patience is Thinning

Orsted struck a flint, the resulting sparks causing the torch the King generously provided him at the onset of his mission to instantly ignite. Brandishing the light before him, he peered into the cavern, watching for a moment the unique shadows the flame cast on the cave walls. The novelty of the courage and strength gained from defeating magicians had long since diminished, and lately he had been feeling aimless, especially when he realized that the DragonLord's castle was rumored to be inaccessible. Studying the iron axe tied to his belt, he wondered if that was perhaps for the best so brash youths wouldn't defeat a slime and then attempt to storm his castle wielding their trusty copper swords. He chuckled at the image before cautiously descending deeper into the darkness.

A resident of Brecconary, when learning Orsted knew little of his ancestry to the legendary Erdrick, suggested he explore Erdrick's tomb. Having no brighter notion, Orsted agreed and hoped that doing so would provide him some instruction that would make the trip worthwhile.

_Well_, Orsted mused, _anything has to be more worthwhile than chasing slimes for a few gold pieces. _

He recalled the intrigue he felt the first time a slime fled from him. Immediately, he turned to investigate, wondering if there was a larger threat behind him. Of course there hadn't been, but that didn't stop Orsted from glancing around during the times thereafter to be certain. As he turned a corner and could no longer see the cavern entrance, he heard what he identified as the shrill cry of drakees in the distance. Knowing he would likely face an encounter, he readied his iron axe and continued traveling in the direction he hoped led to Erdrick's tomb.

* * *

"Princess, my patience is wearing thin. I mentioned to you several months ago that you would do best not to put me to the test for too long and you have now crossed that line. You are forcing me to consider avenues I would rather not take to command your obedience."

The DragonLord studied the Princess. He intentionally left his last sentence vague, searching for any sign that his words rang terror in her heart. She remained sedentary on her bed; the days of her gasps and sobs had long since ended. She now regarded him, the greatest threat in Alefgard, with emerald eyes that reflected not the fear he initially instilled in her but apathy. Knowing he had waited too long to compel her to wed him due to fear, he began devising another plan, a development which was delayed slightly as she spoke.

"But the decision has been already made for me, hasn't it? Or should I believe that you would actually release me if I declined your tempting proposal?" She replied, not bothering to veil the irony in her voice.

Realizing she was mocking him, the DragonLord fought to restrain his growing rage. He originally believed that containing the Princess in solitude would so deprive her of her need for socialization and the active life she was accustomed to that she would agree to the marriage merely to have her freedom returned even to a lesser degree. Instead, she had been the one waiting him out, revealing that the DragonLord had grossly underestimated her wiles. Vowing he would not repeat the mistake again, he tried another approach.

"Release you? After I went through all the trouble to rescue you from the dull and routine life you led? Why, just remember, only months ago you were forbidden to leave the castle lest you meet danger. You were forbidden to ever enjoy that first sip of tea or that first bite of pastry lest some lunatic decide to poison you. Forbidden," he paused for emphasis, "to learn magic or self-defense at the behest of your father no matter how much you pleaded with him."

Gwaelin's lowered head shot up and she met his gaze with horror. "How did you know about that?"

"Oh, but it's written all over your face. I know it by the fury in your eyes when I bring any mention to your precious kingdom or your father. I see by the way you cross your arms that you wish you had some spell, any spell to disable me or my dragon. Most devastating of all, you know that if you were only born a prince instead of a princess, you would have had access to as many of the skills you wanted to learn and more."

Gwaelin was dumbfounded that the DragonLord knew so much about her private desires and insecurities. Neither spoke for many moments, and it was the DragonLord who finally broke the silence.

"If you ask me, your father should have let you learn magic. What good will lessons on etiquette and the history of the royal family serve you when you rule? What kind of man is your father that he wouldn't want you to know how to take care of and defend yourself when peril arises?" The DragonLord paused, giving the Princess time to come to the realization for herself. Seeing that she instead sat staring blankly at him, he resolved to explain the truth that her love and devotion for her father concealed. "He is a coward, your highness."

"No!" Gwaelin quickly interjected.

"A manipulator," the DragonLord continued.

Gwaelin was sitting up now, glowering at the DragonLord's resolute face. "How dare you say-"

"Only a coward would decree that his daughter not learn magic so that she would lack the ability to survive for even a night on her own thereby forcing her to return home. The DragonLord stared at Gwaelin's unconvinced face before adding. "You did offer to leave and help him find the Ball of Light, did you not?"

"Yes…" Gwaelin hesitated, not liking where this was leading.

"And what did he say?" The DragonLord asked in a surprisingly soothing tone.

"That it was too…" Gwaelin began, then stopped when she realized she was playing right into the DragonLord's hands. "No, my father loved me!"

The DragonLord shook his head. "He put you in a cage, Princess."

"No!" Gwaelin stood and was shouting now. "It is you who have me in a cage!"

The DragonLord grinned triumphantly, and it was then that Gwaelin realized he had been trying to provoke her. She flushed, feeling tears glistening in her eyes, but fought to blink them away. After enduring six long months as his captive, she did not feel she could spare another moment of vulnerability lest she react impulsively. The DragonLord paced towards the torch, staring momentarily at the flickering flame before turning again to face her.

"You know very well this is not where I want you…" he trailed and regarded her so intensely she couldn't resist shuddering. "To prove what I say is true, I shall begin the preparations for our wedding and we shall be wed a month from now. If you look inside your bag of provisions," he said, gesturing to the familiar basket he daily gifted to Gwaelin, "you will see that I also expect you to make preparations. If you fail to do so, I will send one of my minions to assist you."

Without waiting for a reply, the DragonLord vanished from the room, leaving Gwaelin with a basket she could not bring herself to open for many hours even to satisfy her hunger.

* * *

Erik, having already been relieved from command twice before due to the King's wavering composure since Gwaelin's abduction, knew it would only be a matter of time before he was restored to his former glory. However, he decided to expedite the process by rescuing Princess Gwaelin. He learned recently from one of the residents of Garinham that she was taken East. He and his men had searched for months all along the road to Rimuldar before returning to Tantegel and dismantling the search party. There were, however, a few places he had not explored so thoroughly which he intended to return to, one of them being the cave along the path to Rimuldar.

Finished with his packing, Erik secured his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. Starting for the door, he collided with a handmaiden, rattling the tray of tea within her grasp. The ceramic teapot tipped on the tray, sending the violently sloshing tea towards Erik's recently polished boots.

"Oh!" the handmaiden gasped, drawing Erik's indignant gaze towards her. Finding himself gazing upon the handmaiden who informed the King of his diabolical plan against Orsted, Erik's glowering eyes suddenly softened as he devised a plan.

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir Knight…" Ellen trailed as she noticed the sudden change in Erik's demeanor. He stood, regarding her with amusement while a smug grin formed on his lips. Fighting to control her trembling, Ellen reached inside her apron and proffered a rag. "Would you like me to wipe your boots for you?"

Erik followed her gaze to his formerly immaculate boots which would now likely suffer permanent stains from the hot liquid. While he normally prided himself on his appearance, such concerns were currently the last thing on his mind.

"No, leave it," Erik spoke as her noticed her preparing to stoop down. "I have another way you can make this up to me."

He watched her eyes widen as her initial reaction of puzzlement transformed to shock. She unconsciously stepped back, before asking. "What do you mean, my lord?"

Upon realizing what she feared, Erik had to stifle his laughter. _If she thinks that I would ever desire a lowlife like her, she has another thing coming!_ He scornfully thought.

Unbuckling his knapsack, he reached in and procured a wrapped item which he placed in her hand. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he described the favor to her. Ellen's relief that Erik did not desire her chastity was so great that she did not think twice about obliging his request. At least, not until it was too late to revoke.

* * *

Directing the glow of his torch in the alcove before him, Orsted noticed a tombstone with some words engraved on it. Stepping closer, he felt his excitement growing. Having never known his father and with his mother dying in childbirth, Orsted had no connection to family and was raised at church until he decided to pursue the path of the mercenary at age thirteen. Beginning with odd jobs, Orsted eventually graduated to traveling Alefgard which exposed him to many people, one of whom recognized him by the gentle sapphire eyes of his mother and rugged facial features of his father. It was then that Orsted learned of his lineage, something he did not feel compelled to further explore until recently.

Stooping low, he examined the tombstone. The coat of dust covering it revealed that it had seen better days. Orsted reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, and spent several minutes cleaning the grime off. Finally satisfied that he had done his best, he began to read the inscription.

"Descendant! My name is Erdrick. Three items were necessary to cross to the island of evil…which can be seen from Tantegel Castle…I collected these items, crossed to the island and defeated the evil King. I then entrusted those items to three wise men in the Kingdom. Their descendants protect those items and await your arrival. When an evil demon rises once again on the island, collect those items and slay the creature. The three men await your arrival somewhere on this land. Go forth, my descendant!"

While the vague instructions might have discouraged most, Orsted found motivation in knowing that he had a new goal. He spent several minutes in the cave meditating on the words until he ensured he had memorized them. Then, picking up his torch, he determined his next course of action would be to travel East, to land he had yet to explore.

* * *

After many hours, Gwaelin finally succumbed to hunger and uneasily tugged on the ribbon binding the basket containing her daily provisions. Seeing the loaf of bread, she ate a few delicate bites, recalling several months ago that she gave up trying to escape from her prison and decided to starve herself. The DragonLord quickly discovered her plan when he saw that she had not touched her rations the following day. He coldly threatened that he would have some of his minions force feed her if she ever tried that ploy again.

Reminded of his minions, she recalled his other promise that they would assist her if she refused to make preparations for the wedding. _What preparations?_ She wondered. Opening the basket further revealed some material which she assumed was to make her wedding dress and a flask containing some unidentified liquid. Curiously, she opened the flask and gently inhaled before immediately retching, almost spilling the contents of the flask. The odor was so putrid that even after she replaced the cap, she was convinced some must have leaked on her because the smell was still ingrained in her.

It took her many moments to regain her composure and when she finally did, she noticed a note attached to the flask. It read, "A wedding gift to my future queen. While you may not appreciate the scent now, it is a most desirable odor to me. I will no longer provide the soaps and oils you are accustomed to. I now expect you to bathe in this daily, and if you refuse to do so, remember that I am happy to provide suitable help."

Trembling, she dropped the note and stared at the flask, trying not to imagine his minions applying the horrible gel all over her exposed skin. Within her first month of imprisonment, she requested of the DragonLord for a way to cleanse herself. Surprisingly, he did not laugh (perhaps because he viewed it as a sign she was accepting her new predicament), but added a large bucket of warm water, soaps, new clothes and towels to her daily provisions.

But before she could completely surrender to impending despair, she suddenly had a notion that may allow her to fool the DragonLord. Glancing under the bed, she measured how much of her stash of soap remained and saw that she had a week's supply. While some would not care for their hygiene while imprisoned, Gwaelin viewed apathy to such details as a means of conforming to the DragonLord's manner of living, something which she refused to do. It was then she realized that she still retained a small hope of being rescued, and if that day came, she wanted her rescuer to know that she too had struggled and that she too had fought to keep her freedom and dignity in all respects.


	5. Despair Settles In

Despair Settles In

The road to Kol brought many new adversaries such as skeletons, scorpions and magidrakees in frighteningly increasing numbers. Collecting the loot from his most recent skeleton encounter, Orsted paused to reflect that it would likely not be long before the DragonLord launched his final attack on Alefgard. This realization was what drove Orsted as of late, and he also found such drive brought occasional discouragement, especially since he had not found any piece of Erdrick's legendary equipment.

Stooping down to collect the gold pieces, he glanced as the setting sun fought to pore through the gaps in the thick forest surrounding Kol. He observed as an ominous shadow soared overhead and quickly disappeared in a tree. Guessing it was a bird preparing to retire for the evening, he sighed and arose. While he was fatigued after his week journey thus far and longed to setup camp for the night, the possibility of sleeping in a bed trumped the instant gratification setting up camp in his current location would provide.

He arrived in Kol just as darkness settled over Alefgard, awakening nocturnal critters who announced their presence in an orchestra of chirps and howls. Taking notice of the armory to his right, he made plans to visit it tomorrow, hoping for an upgrade to his chainmail, and if funds permitted, his iron axe which desperately needed sharpening. In front of him was the Kol bath now dimly lit by two lanterns which cast an ethereal glow over the bath water said to cure ailments ranging from the common strained muscle to the painful joints brought on by rheumatism. Glimpsing the inn next to the baths, he started for it praying there was space for him. As he placed his hand on the brass doorknob, a sudden voice startled him, commanding his attention.

"Good evening, my lord." Orsted turned, meeting the gaze of an elderly woman whose hazel eyes shone with vigor far younger than her years. Seeing he noticed her, she resumed speaking. "I know this will sound strange, but I had a dream last night of a man I could not recognize. It stayed with me all day, and it was only when I lay eyes upon you that I could discern the importance of the dream."

Orsted gazed down at her perplexedly. "My lady, I think you are mis-"

"The dream was of you, sir, I am sure of it!" She insisted. "A beautiful maiden gazes upon your face and falls in love. Now seeing you in person, I can see why!" She giggled, then added, "I don't know why I felt so compelled to divulge that to you, but I pray the information aids you in your quest."

Before Orsted could say another word, the elderly woman grabbed her cane and shuffled towards the town plaza. Staring after her, his initial puzzlement was replaced by a faint memory as he recalled a villager in Garinham who insisted he saw the Princess taken east. Still another villager swore he heard a woman's voice in the cave south of town. Both claims had been investigated by the royal guard which yielded nothing but further despair as the Princess remained missing. Perhaps tomorrow Orsted too would investigate the claim, but still another thing perplexed him. Why was he suddenly accepting this elderly woman's vague premonition as fact? Even if what she spoke of did come to pass, the beautiful woman could be anyone. Besides, love as fickle as that at first sight couldn't hold much value or longevity. He pondered the woman's words for a few more moments before it dawned on him that he was making speculations not based on words but on a dream.

* * *

Not a day went by that King Lorik failed to think of Gwaelin. In addition to his daily thoughts, he often found that she visited him in his sleep. While dreams of her usually evoked emotions of sorrow and love as memories of her escaped the confines of his subconscious, tonight's dream introduced a fear and horror as he observed the DragonLord tormenting her in manners his conscious mind did not allow him to conjure. Gwaelin was in trouble, the degree to which caused him to awaken with a lurch, which was restrained by the sheets wrapped tightly around him. Struggling to free himself from his satin prison, he finally sat upright and pulled the nearby cord to summon an attendant.

Moments later, a servant entered, immediately replacing the sleep which loomed in his weary eyes with an expression of resigned formality. "How may I serve you, my liege?"

"Please summon Erik for me."

"Yes, sire," the servant obediently acknowledged and turned to leave.

"Tell him it is a matter most urgent!" the King called, then quickly felt foolish. What matter wouldn't be urgent in the middle of the night?

Unable to sit still, the King paced as he waited. While it had been over a month since he recruited Orsted of whom he still had every intention of supporting, the King could not deny that Orsted was not what he expected of a descendant of the great Erdrick. He was honorable, yes, but he was also inexperienced, and salvaging Alefgard would require experience…An experience Erik possessed.

Anticipation brought the King's gaze toward the door. _What is taking so long? _He wondered momentarily before his thoughts again swept his attention and anxiety away.

Surely having a second man on the quest to save Alefgard would ease Orsted's burden. That and the King reasoned that if Gwaelin was with the DragonLord, then defeating him would simultaneously lead to her rescue. Wouldn't it? His doubt didn't have time to fully manifest before the servant returned wearing a look of apprehension.

"Sire, I could not locate Sir Erik."

Puzzlement overcame the King's resolute composure. "What do you mean?"

"He was not in his room, my liege."

The King's thick brows rose incredulously. "Did you search elsewhere? Perhaps he stepped out to relieve himself."

The servant nodded. "I did, Sire. I recruited two others to aid me in my search and learned that he left this evening. A handmaiden claims he is traveling to Rimuldar."

Feeling his impatience rising, the King sighed deeply. "Well hurry after him then. He couldn't have traveled far!"

* * *

With trembling hands, Gwaelin carefully pried the cap off the bottle of the unknown, rancid substance. She suspected that the DragonLord was due to visit her at any minute and she needed to prepare herself lest he summon his minions and enlist their assistance as promised. Removing the note the DragonLord authored from the basket of provisions, she extended her arms as far as she could and drenched the note in the viscous liquid. Gagging, she waited until the paper ceased dripping before using a pin the DragonLord carelessly left on her wedding dress material to secure it to her dress' slip. The odor immediately traveled to her nostrils, and while she longed to tear the paper from her dress and fling it out the door towards the slumbering dragon, she resisted the urge. Her reaction was a wise move, for she turned and found herself facing the DragonLord.

He inhaled, causing his hideous facial features to contort in ecstasy. "I see you put my gift to use. Don't fret for you will soon grow used to it."

"Don't..." she started, intending to tell him not to count on it. Instead to her horror, opening her mouth allowed her a taste of the vile liquid. Recalling that she once had the displeasure of sipping a glass of sour milk that a hung over servant overlooked as he served her, she realized that she still would have rather consumed the milk than to have one taste of the liquid.

The DragonLord grinned, clearly enjoying her reaction. "I'm glad to see I take your breath away, Princess...I hope I continue to do so upon my return next week." He observed as her irate expression transformed to one of puzzlement before adding. "I have matters to attend to elsewhere before we wed."

Gwaelin stared silently, too afraid to open her mouth again. Seeing she did not intend to speak, the DragonLord continued.

"I expect you to be ready upon my return."

At that, the DragonLord stepped forward so unexpectedly that she didn't have time to react. Before she knew it, his lips were upon hers, and when her shock finally abated enough to where she was prepared to push him away, he phased from the room in his usual fashion. Forgetting the odor, she gagged and spat in disgust. The taste of the DragonLord combined with the taste of the liquid assaulted her with full force, and it was all she could do to contain the nausea that threateningly rose in the back of her throat.

* * *

Morning's arrival stirred Erik, who stretched once before immediately remembering his mission. Sitting upright, he reached into his pack and sought the care package a smitten handmaiden provided him. Ever since his early adolescence, Erik realized the effect his winning smile and beseeching charm had on Alefgard's ladies and handmaidens alike when the handmaiden he beamed at had been so enamored she collided with a wall, spilling the contents of her tray. Erik had chuckled, causing the handmaiden's soft blue eyes to well up with tears, an insecurity she later sought to validate with a visit to his quarters that evening. By adulthood, his approach had matured to conceal his malicious and manipulative intent, enabling him to woo all but the Princess and perhaps also that handmaiden who caused him trouble before the King. At once he recalled her name was Ellen.

Remembering her caused his dark eyes to flicker briefly with hatred before he recalled the favor he asked of her. Grinning, he procured a strawberry-glazed pastry from the care package, and rewarded himself with a bite, promising himself that the revenge he would soon have on Ellen would taste even sweeter. It was into his third bite when he thought he heard someone calling him. Glancing around the meadow, he noticed one of the sentries approaching him. Infuriated at having his thoughts interrupted, he apathetically resumed eating until Lloyd approached and stood in front of him.

Erik swallowed and spoke. "You better have a good reason for following me out here." He arose and flicked a bit of frosting from his face, wishing he could be rid of Lloyd just as easily.

Just as intended, Lloyd did not miss the implication. His face flushed with anxiety and a hint of resentment. "Sir Erik, the King requests your presence. He said he has a mission for you."

The disdain on Erik's features transformed to intrigue. "A mission? Concerning what?"

"He mentioned something about a ring, Sir." Noticing impatience beginning to form on Erik's face, he quickly added. "A ring that is said to increase your strength."

Erik's dark eyes danced with excitement. "Ah, the fighter's ring!" Pausing, he considered the decision before him. He could rescue Gwaelin and attain the King's favor, or he could seek the ring and become stronger. But suppose the King decided to send Orsted after the fighter's ring. That would not do! Turning his attention back to Lloyd, he nodded stoically. "Yes, Lloyd. This is a mission I intend to accept."

* * *

Entering the cave south of Kol, Orsted habitually sought a torch in his pack before he remembered that his magical proficiency granted him another spell he was eager to try. Chanting a simple phrase caused the room to brighten, revealing a greater area than a torch would have provided. The downside was that he had to focus on maintaining the light, for the light's intensity depended on his willpower. Satisfied that his first attempt succeeded, he trudged forward, listening carefully to sounds ranging from the familiar drakee to the scurrying of some critter he could not identify. Perhaps it was the druin a villager mentioned he may encounter here?

Trudging onward, he travelled southeast, and after several minutes he couldn't help but notice a faint glow in the eastern cavern. He strode forth a few steps to investigate, but suddenly stopped. A heightened awareness arose within him simultaneously increasing his discernment. He had the feeling that if he resumed forward, he would encounter impending doom. Despite this warning which resounded powerfully in his racing heart, his curiosity contained him in place and he listened for several moments.

At first he only heard enemies traveling through the cavern, but there was one erratic sound which occasionally chimed in that didn't fit. Straining to attune his ear to that sound, he could only describe it as what sounded like an anguished sob. A monster? _No, it can't be,_ he reasoned. Although melancholy, the sob was also melodious, stirring a memory of the magpie he captured as a young adolescent. Intrigued by its song, he lured it with food into the cage he constructed, securing the door as soon as it entered. The song he had been so enthralled with transformed to one of such misery that Orsted could no longer bear it after a few days. He released it, realizing at once that it had been too beautiful of a creature to keep engaged and its delightful song depended on its freedom. Similarly, this sob he heard stirred compassion and sorrow in his heart to such a degree that he was convinced the sound could not belong to something as grotesque or fearsome as one of the DragonLord's minions. What was it then?

Before he could answer, he felt his willpower failing him as the cavern began to dim. Struggling to regain his focus, he listened again, praying that the sound would repeat. After many moments, it didn't, and he finally turned away from whatever threat awaited him on the southeastern path and traveled to the cave's exit towards the south. However, despite the welcoming sun upon his exit and his delight that Rimuldar was only a few hours journey, he could not turn his mind from the sob's sweet melody as it beseeched his heart, begging him to return.

* * *

Gwaelin was distraught and overcome with despair for a multitude of reasons. First, the DragonLord had stolen a piece of her virtue that was meant to be so monumental it was the topic of many sonnets and songs alike. Similar to any young maiden, she often fantasized about her first kiss, believing the love and passion contained within would surpass even the depictions in the novels she read. Such a kiss was sacred, and she only desired to share it with the man she intended to marry. Instead, she would always remember that her first kiss had been embracing evil and hatred itself. The realization filled her with such distress that she cried out, unable to keep her agonizing sobs from escaping. Then, before she succumbed to complete hysteria, she felt a presence in the cavern which was clearly distinguished from the sounds of the scurrying monsters and heavy breathing of the dragon she had become so accustomed to hearing.

The presence resonated such strength and vigor that she initially believed it to be the DragonLord eavesdropping on her. As she continued to observe, it did not take her long to recognize that the DragonLord could not possibly possess the degree of warmth and benevolence this presence radiated. She longed to call out, pleading for her rescue, but she feared she would alert the dragon and catch this unsuspecting individual off guard, leading to a horrible demise. While she sought freedom, she did not believe she could bear the thought of her freedom coming at the cost of another's life. Before she could devise another notion, she felt the presence diminishing. She cried out, despite knowing in her heart that the opportunity had passed. All too soon she was left with nothing but the familiar sounds of the DragonLord's minions, revealing how alone she truly was and perhaps would remain.


	6. The Royal Rescue

The Royal Rescue

Rimuldar was a dynamic town with an eclectic mix of villagers ranging from traveling merchants to peasants looking to start a new life. The town had such a presence that one almost forgot the DragonLord's threat despite his castle's close proximity. Renowned for producing a key claimed to have the ability to unlock any door, Orsted began seeking the locksmith. An introvert at heart, Orsted valued his privacy and was horrified at such an invention, but he had the feeling that such a key might be useful on his journey. As he searched, he quickly learned that everyone in town either feigned ignorance at the shop's location or didn't want to divulge it to an outsider. Nevertheless, he explored until he grew so frustrated that he resolved to check into the inn so he could leave his belongings and take a walk by the placid stream surrounding town.

The serene atmosphere from the gently flowing stream to the picturesque mountains in the distance was just the break he had in mind. He sauntered towards the west outskirts of town, finding his mind drifting again to his experience in the cavern. The melancholy cry tugged on his heart so much that he intended to return, even though it was likely he would have to face the danger that instilled such immobilizing terror in him. Still, he refused to die a fool's death so he must not be hasty. He needed to upgrade his equipment as much as his funds would allow and devote time to practicing some offensive and defensive maneuvers to adjust to his new gear. Resolved that his plan was sound, he continued his walk, and much to his fortune, eventually encountered the key shop. Unbeknownst to him, his true fortune lay not in saving him the time from continual search for the shop, but rather in the fact that the key would be required for him to thoroughly explore the cave.

* * *

Having no patience to hike the long trail through the mountain ranges and forests of Alefgard, Erik pilfered a warp wing from one of the soldier's quarters, allowing him to quickly journey to the cavern containing the fighter's ring. Figuring he could perhaps claim the ring and rescue Gwaelin in the span of a week or less filled him with such enthusiasm that he wasted no time beginning his search. However, much to his dismay, he had already exhausted three torches and did not seem any closer to locating the legendary ring.

Cursing when he realized he made a complete circle, he deliberately kicked a loose pebble with such force it roughly collided with the cavern wall. Satisfied when the impact caused an echo, he prepared to turn back when he suddenly stumbled upon a chest. His excitement faded when his mind taunted him with the notion that the contents might be another worthless torch or, worse yet, an herb. However, opening the chest revealed a treasure far greater, almost in comparison to the fighter's ring itself. Noticing a drakee fluttering in front of him, he grabbed it as a plot so devious occurred to him that he lost all interest in his original mission. Suddenly he knew how he could render Orsted helpless forever while maintaining his innocence. As the plan continued to form in his head, he chuckled and sealed his sadistic scheme with a wring of the drakee's neck.

* * *

In the days that followed, Gwaelin grew increasingly aware of a darkness that enshrouded the cavern and threatened to engulf her. It was not simply visual darkness she referenced, but rather an evil so sinister that loomed, a feeling which was only magnified as the day of the DragonLord's return grew closer. Suddenly Gwaelin's mind posed a question she had not yet considered- why did the DragonLord want to marry her? Surely it would not be for reasons as simple as producing offspring or for companionship. What could it be then?

Before she could conjure another possibility, a werewolf abruptly barged in and came bearing her daily rations. During his absence the DragonLord not only locked the door, but seemed also to select the most repugnant of his minions to grace her. First it was a droll, followed by a wyvern and then yesterday a scorpion. She studied the werewolf cautiously as it placed the basket on the table. Her relief as it turned to leave was short-lived as it suddenly paused, inhaled deeply and then doubled back. Realizing she neglected to pin the odor to her body, she started to panic, but thought better of it. She recalled from her reading that werewolves were generally depicted as dense in the novels she read, and as she desperately sought a distraction, she prayed that the novels' conjectures were true.

As she glanced to her left, she noticed at once the open flask, which she rapidly snatched causing the liquid to slosh onto her hands as she intended. Gazing up, she hurled the flask at the werewolf, striking it upside the head.

"Get out of here!" she shrieked.

The blow stunned the werewolf briefly, but it soon recovered with a snarl, glowering eyes, and a jolt forward before restraining itself. Suddenly it paused, sniffing her from afar, then reluctantly departed, verifying Gwaelin's assumption that the DragonLord instructed his minions not to harm her. Her victory, however, was smothered by the realization that she was no closer to discovering the truth of the DragonLord's motives and that she now had a horrible stench on her hands which she was not sure she would be able to remove with her remaining soap. Her doubts resurfaced with renewed fury as she reflected on the few days she had remaining before her life of servitude commenced.

* * *

Upon crossing the swamp and returning to the cavern, Orsted realized that while he was still afraid of what lay ahead, he also felt a tremendous courage surging through him. This puzzled him at first, and he was tempted to attribute much of this bravery to his broad sword and fully-plated armor until he realized that his courage was not based on material items but rather on his newfound confidence in himself. While he still was (and would likely always be) cautious, he was no longer reluctant to pursue the path before him, which at this point was the southeastern portion of the swamp cave. Although he could not explain how he knew, he believed that investigating the cave would help him in his quest.

Retracing his steps, he stood in the same place he had days before, finding that the fear that previously paralyzed him now compelled him forward. Withdrawing his sword, he proceeded, ignoring the coercive growl which reverberated off the cavern walls almost as loudly as his racing heart. He ignored too the sudden cloud of steam and condensate as it formed a mist on his armor. Lastly, he disregarded every impulse to run as the fog cleared and he found himself standing face to face with a dragon! Placing his shield before him and assuming a defensive stance, he observed as the dragon remained stationary and regarded him with menacing golden eyes. Neither engaged the other for many moments, daring the other to make the first move. It was the dragon who finally took the initiative.

* * *

Gwaelin spent the next few hours attempting to cleanse her hands from the stench, when she was suddenly distracted by a surge of cool and collected strength. _He was back!_The realization filled her with such joy that she raced to the door and crouched against it, determined to detect his whereabouts. To her alarm, she sensed him drawing closer until he drew the attention of the dragon who issued an ominous growl. What followed next, Gwaelin couldn't be sure, and while she was tempted to peer out the tiny barred window, she refused for she did not believe she could bear to witness the demise of this person in whom she placed all of her remaining hope.

With her ear pressed to the door and her gaze directed downward, she noticed a brief glow protruding through a crack in the door which she frightfully suspected was attributed to the dragon's flames. The flames were replaced by a screech as ear-piercing as an infant's cry and as enraged as a lion's roar. Suddenly, a dazzling light filled her prison with such intensity that she started to shield her eyes, before the light faded just as quickly. Replacing her ear against the door, she listened intently. After what felt like a prolonged silence but in reality only lasted a few seconds, she feared the worst, until she heard a key turn in the door. Startled, she retreated to the table, finding etiquette and conviction failed her as she realized that for the first time in her life, she would not know how to conduct herself.

* * *

Orsted combated the dragon with an agility and precision that surprised even himself. Easily dodging the first lunge, he countered with a swipe to the dragon's neck, striking rough scales which felt as if his sword were grazing a boulder. The blow only further infuriated the dragon, who issued a growl that shook the cavern walls before swinging around sharply and exhaling a flame that Orsted barely blocked with his shield. Knowing his shield would be unable to withstand such heat and abuse for much longer, he chanted a few words, summoning a light which caught the dragon's dilated eyes off guard. The dragon ceased expelling its flame, and seizing the moment, Orsted leapt into the air, thrusting his blade deep within the dragon's chest.

Thick blood spurted from the wound, and Orsted hardly had time to remove his sword before the dragon was upon him. The dragon erratically clawed and snapped at Orsted, who desperately parried. Although the dragon remained partially blinded by the light, it still had a longer reach, and unfortunately for Orsted, the cavern was so narrow that he could not evade nor prevent one of the dragon's claws from puncturing his armor and making contact with his exposed shoulder. Feeling his vision blur as pain seized him, he resisted the lull of unconsciousness and instead, launched a fireball which he directed at the dragon's open wound.

In excruciating pain, the dragon's shriek reached an ear-shattering decibel, compelling Orsted to cover his ears. Producing the effect it desired, the dragon blew an enormous flame, which engulfed Orsted's shield and he scarcely evaded. Flinging his smoldering shield aside, he raised his sword in preparation for the dragon's counterattack. However, the dragon collapsed in a heap just feet from the door. Noticing that the door's hinges swung outward, Orsted was grateful the dragon was not an inch closer.

He stooped down and scrutinized the dragon carefully, watching as its breathing slowed and then finally ceased. All at once, smoke filled the cavern causing him to cough and seek a loose piece of cloth to cover his nasal passages. Moving his arm sent a searing pain to his shoulder, and gritting his teeth, he cast the only healing spell he knew from his magical studies. It relieved the pain somewhat, but he knew he would need to seek treatment in town to prevent infection. However, he dismissed his pain and stepped over the dragon to reach the door. Feeling in his pouch, he located the magic key, wondering briefly if he had been duped by the merchant. The click of the lock alleviated his doubts, and he discarded the broken key and pulled the door open.

Thankful that his spell still lit the area, he surveyed the room until he caught sight of her- the maiden who emitted the anguished yet captivating sob. Sheathing his sword, Orsted approached until she was within his surrounding glow, and was at once awestruck. He had only beheld beauty such as hers one other time, and it was in a painting depicted by an artist heavily influenced by idealism. The distinct difference was that the maiden in the painting had an unattainable appeal marked by a vain and snobbish gaze, whereas the maiden before him drew her appeal from the grace and virtue reflected in her emerald eyes. Her waist-length auburn hair shone with such rich luster that seemed to Orsted to reveal more of her sweet and genuine nature. If she was aware of the effect she had on him, she gave no notice of it. As she smiled, her eyes glimmered enchantingly, brightening the room to an even greater degree than his spell and setting him at ease so he was not shocked when she broke the silence.

"My name is Gwaelin and I am the Princess of Tantegel."

"The Princess of Tantegel?" Orsted repeated in disbelief.

She favored him with a dazzling smile that sent a blush to his face and nodded. "I have long been awaiting a valiant hero to rescue me. Would you be kind enough to grace me with your name?"

"Orsted," he replied simply, hoping he did not come across terse. In actuality, he still could not believe he was standing before the Princess, who he did not imagine would be alive after all of this time. He, of course, refrained from confiding such doubts in the King or chancellor. Since encountering the imposter, he planned to interrogate any other maidens claiming to be the Princess, but any reservations he had upon her identifying herself fell to the integrity contained in her gaze and to the sweet notes of sincerity in her voice.

"If you had not come for me I would have become the DragonLord's bride. Oh, how I shudder at that thought!"

He watched as she arose and slowly strolled towards him, causing her dress to drag behind. "Orsted, I would like to talk more, but I don't feel safe here. Since you rescued me, will you please escort me back to the castle?"

Nodding, he replied, "Of course."

She beamed and he felt his confidence soar as she placed her trust and protection in his hands. Taking a few steps, she suddenly grabbed onto him for support as her knees buckled. Concerned, he turned so his other arm could brace her as well as she leaned into him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's just I haven't had much opportunity to walk around here," she joked, but Orsted sensed she was deeply ashamed. He longed to give her reassurance, but he feared she would take any such attempt as condescending. Thankfully she spoke and removed the need for any words of encouragement on his part.

"Do you think you can carry me?" she asked, staring with evident concern at his injured shoulder.

Gazing at her instead of his wound, he replied. "Yes, Princess, it is no problem. I recently learned some magic that can instantly transport us back."

She met his gaze with a meaningful expression which Orsted suspected was because he had not sought to embarrass her. "Thank you," she softly spoke.

Bending down, he cradled her in his arms, immediately picking up the flowery fragrance of her hair. He adjusted her so she rested against his good shoulder, then recited a phrase which brought the pair outside. Though the sun was setting, it was still bright enough that Gwaelin burrowed her head in his brawny torso to shield her long-since dilated eyes. The move so shocked Orsted that he did not notice the poisonous marsh until he was already knee-deep in it. Finding that he lacked the energy to cast the spell to return to the castle, he sighed for he was going to have to trudge forward and endure the swamp.

Gwaelin, feeling his sigh, squinted up at him. "Are you okay, Orsted?"

Gritting his teeth as the poison burned his boots, he replied. "I'll be fine once we pass this point."

As if sensing their vulnerability, a magidrakee suddenly approached. Gwaelin, much to her credit and Orsted's surprise, gasped, but otherwise maintained a calm composure. Reveling in the trust she placed in his ability gave him the energy he needed to launch a fireball at the magidrakee, fully engulfing it.

"Wow, so that's magic!" Gwaelin astonishingly exclaimed. "I heard many tales about warriors proficient in combative magic, but never beheld it myself. I would love to see more sometime…"

While Orsted longed to immediately show her his array of spells simply to hear her gasp in delight, he found his strength was failing him and he did not believe he could hold out much longer. Pausing, he attempted to reach into his pack, but realized he could not do so without setting the Princess in the poisonous swamp. The notion horrified him so much he continued to press forward, but the Princess detected something was amiss.

"What do you need, Orsted?"

"Princess…" he trailed as the burning sensation from the swamp rose from his boots to his thighs, "do you think you can reach into my pouch and get an herb?"

"Yes, of course," she spoke as she extended her arm and fumbled with the pack's button.

Sighting the end of the swamp, he increased his pace until he was at last on the grassy meadow. Setting the Princess down, she proffered the herb which he eagerly crushed into a salve and applied to his shoulder.

"Thank you, Princess," he spoke as the salve revived some of his strength. Turning to face her, he caught her staring at him with an expression containing an emotion he could not discern. He was reminded briefly of the captivation he felt upon meeting her in the cave, and for a moment, he thought he saw that same sensation reflected on her face. She didn't give him time to ponder the matter any further for she quickly turned her head to conceal her blush, and glanced around the meadow.

Following her gaze, he found that the setting sun cast an intricate design of light and dark shades across the land that was unlike anything he had ever encountered in all of his travels. Glancing at the Princess, he found her eyes dancing with wonder and her expression so enchanted that he hated to interrupt the moment. However, there was a matter of much importance he had to address.

"Princess…" he gently spoke, waiting until she turned to face him. "I do not feel I have the energy to cast the spell to transfer us home tonight and I did not think to pack a warp wing. There is no town we can reach before dark and I-" he trailed as the shake of her head and stunning smile caused him to forget what he was trying to say.

"It is fine, Orsted. I would not let you take me home right now even if you offered. Besides, I have been inside a cave for several months and I do not think I could bear to sleep inside."

This time it was Orsted who grinned, grateful that she had not sought to humiliate him for his lack of planning. "I will assemble the tent for you, Princess."

"Gwaelin," she quickly spoke, then added at his puzzlement. "Please call me Gwaelin."

"But-" he started to protest, ceasing only when her stern expression revealed that she would not settle for anything less.

Unstrapping the canvas from his bag, he unraveled it, spreading it flat along the meadow. Gwaelin, not content to passively observe, steadied the anchors as he hammered them in with a rock he located near the marsh. Then, marveling at their completed work, Orsted sprinkled some fairy water around their camp to ward off monsters before preparing a fire. Sharing some of the bread and fruit he purchased in Rimuldar, the two conversed until late into the night before Gwaelin prepared to retire to the tent.

She met his eyes, placing a hand on his forearm. "Good night, Orsted…thank you again for rescuing me."

Lingering there for a moment, Orsted held her gaze, feeling suddenly overcome as a flood of affection and desire disarmed him. He had not been prepared for such passion, finding all he could do in response was to glance away and offer Gwaelin a simple, "Sleep well." His conscience, however, was not so kind, and their shared expression remained ingrained in his mind throughout the night.


	7. A Change of Plans

A Change of Plans

The moment the DragonLord learned of Princess Gwaelin's escape, he unleashed a rage upon his minions even beyond the one witnessed when the skeleton nearly lost the ball of light to a wandering merchant. The merchant, of course, had been in the wrong place at the wrong time as the DragonLord and his minions returned from ransacking TantegelCastle several months ago, and attempted to defend himself against the onslaught of enemies. Having no patience for carelessness, the DragonLord considered recovering the Princess himself, but had a better notion when he learned the rescuer was a descendent of Erdrick.

Originally, his plan was to make Princess Gwaelin his bride simply to maintain control over Alefgard during his absence. Believing he could subdue any resistance in Alefgard by marrying the Princess and nullify the Princess' rebellion with threats of destroying the kingdom or her loved ones, he intended to explore other lands, exercising dominion as he desired. Only one thing complicated this plan: the Princess was more resolute than he imagined, thereby delaying his plans indefinitely. But imagine recruiting the descendant of Erdrick for his cause…that would surely crush any hope that remained in Alefgard! And if he refused, then he would simply annihilate him, likewise abolishing any hope. Realizing that whatever the outcome, he would emerge a victor, he ceased his eavesdropping on Alefgard's last hope.

* * *

Orsted's first thoughts of Gwaelin upon awakening were interrupted as he sensed an overpowering and ominous presence looming near their camp. Rapidly arising, he drew his sword from the scabbard, and despite every warning resounding within him, he followed this presence into the meadow. His initial notion was that the DragonLord dispatched an even stronger minion, or worse yet, himself to reclaim Gwaelin. The notion stirred such a fear in him that Orsted briefly wondered whether returning Gwaelin to Tantegel was inadvertently securing its destruction. However, he sensed that whatever threat that had settled over their camp was here for him and seemed more intent on studying him than on his destruction. At least, for the moment…

* * *

Gwaelin awoke, immediately met with a wave of disorientation as she gazed upon her unfamiliar surroundings lit by the morning sun as it illuminated the tent. However, memories of her rescue and of meeting Orsted entered her mind just as quickly, replacing the disorientation with tremendous relief. She was free! Never again would she awaken to an atmosphere as dark and despairing as the cavern. Never again would she have to endure a visit from the DragonLord. And it was all thanks to Orsted. Orsted...

_Where is he?_ She wondered, curiously.

Thoughts of Orsted drew her attention away, and she recalled the flutter in her heart that arose as her gaze swept over his ruggedly handsome facial features which she supposed would cause any maiden to swoon. Somewhere within her fantasies of her rescuer, she assumed he would have to be a battle-hardened warrior to overcome the dragon, but she was immediately relieved to see that Orsted was not. The strength she initially detected in him radiated not in a cruel or aggressive manner, but rather displayed itself in a bold and protective manner. She recalled as he embraced her, the memory of which caused her infatuation of him to soar, and before her feelings had the opportunity to be grounded by reason, she arose and peered through the tent flaps seeking him.

The wholesome meadow air that met her bestowed upon her a sense of tranquility and deep satisfaction that distracted her momentarily. Recognizing that this was a similar sensation to how she felt when Orsted beheld her with his strong, yet gentle gaze, she scrutinized the meadow until she noticed him. Delight filled her, bringing forth a smile she could not contain, and she approached closer, forgetting her knees which soon threatened to buckle. Steadying herself, she pressed on, and while she could not wait for him to notice her, something about his mannerisms instilled in her a resolve not to disturb him. It was when she strolled a few steps closer that she noticed him wearing an expression she could not discern. Before she had a moment to contemplate the matter further, he suddenly turned, and any surprise he felt at her presence was not betrayed in his voice.

"Sorry, I thought I heard something," he spoke, sheathing his sword and simultaneously erasing the expression. Although he grinned at her, she sensed he still carried the burden of whatever was concerning him. Yet, he spoke again before she could ask. "How did you sleep?'

"I slept wonderfully! In fact, it was probably the most peaceful sleep I had in months," she admitted.

He started to reply, but seemed to think better of it. Remaining quiet for a moment, she feared she had somehow offended him, and was about to speak before he beat her to it.

"I slept well too and feel much better. We can warp to the castle when you're ready."

While he probably expected she wanted to return to the castle, she realized that once she did so her father would tighten the security such that she would be lucky to be able to have a moment alone, even for personal matters! She knew that Orsted would resume his travels, and the thought of not seeing him again filled her with a disappointment almost akin to the one she felt when she wondered if perhaps Orsted did want to be rid of her. And could she blame him? Not really…Why would he want to travel with a companion totally dependent on him for her every need?

"Gwaelin…" Orsted spoke, breaking her reverie. "Is something wrong?"

Sighing, she glanced away, not wanting him to see her inner turmoil. "Actually, Orsted, I was wanting to travel with you a little longer. I never had the opportunity to see Alefgard and always dreamed peace would come one day so I could. But I suppose you're right and I should return to Tantegel…"

"No!" Orsted quickly interjected, compelling her to regard him with astonishment, bringing an immediate blush to his face. "I mean, I naturally assumed you wanted to return, but you are welcome to accompany me to Kol. I could use the companionship."

"But, are you sure I won't be a burden?" she asked apprehensively, feeling a blush of utter shame rise to her downcast face.

Stepping forward, Orsted gently placed a hand on her forearm, providing her the reassurance she needed to look at him. As she did, she did not miss the glance of tender compassion that swept across his handsome face. "Absolutely not. I have never had anyone keep me company on my travels and I'm surprised you want to."

His quip produced a glimmer in his eye as he grinned at her, and she favored him with a dazzling smile. As the two conversed briefly over breakfast before packing his belongings, her initial delight that she could remain with him was stifled as a disheartening thought entered her mind. _That's all he wants? Just someone to talk to? _She fretted, before wondering, _What is wrong with me? I barely know him and already I am completely taken with him. _

Although she attempted to reason that she was in love with his heroics or even the simple fact that he was the first person she had any form of contact with for months, her heart remained unconvinced and troubled throughout their journey to Kol.

* * *

Ellen too was troubled. Although it had been several weeks since she fulfilled the request Erik asked of her, she could not shake the memory of his shrewd grin as she accepted the package. Sure the favor of delivering it to one of the handmaidens seemed harmless enough, but something did not feel right. She felt as if at any moment one of the sentries would break down her door and arrest her for participating in some heinous crime. Little did she know, her worst fears would soon be confirmed.

* * *

After arriving in Kol, Orsted sought the inn and secured two rooms for Gwaelin and himself. Setting her down, he observed as she arose and gracefully strolled towards the window, taking in the wooded scenery. Watching as her ivory dress dragged behind, he couldn't help but wonder why she was content to have him carry her the entire journey. He noticed that each passing day revived more of her strength, and he was certain she could walk the majority of the way if she desired to. Still puzzling to Orsted was the fact that he enjoyed carrying her! He cherished the trust she placed in him as shown by the way she rested her head on his shoulder, and he anticipated her encircling her arms around his neck as she often did. Until now, it had seemed perfectly natural to carry her, and he found that he didn't want to stop doing so. He just wanted to understand…

Prior to meeting Gwaelin, defeating the DragonLord had been his most important priority, and while it was still at the forefront of his mind, he felt that rescuing Gwaelin halted some of the urgency of his quest. He couldn't explain it, but he felt able to relish this brief break with the reassurance that the DragonLord was not making any advances at this time. Noticing Gwaelin staring at him, he felt her soft emerald eyes displacing his train of thought and commanding his full attention.

"Will you be alright here, Gwaelin?"

With a delightful grin, she nodded. "Yes, take your time. I hear the baths are refreshing here so I may even explore town if I feel up to it. Don't worry about me!"

Imagining Gwaelin in the baths sent a yearning over him he was unprepared for, and he excused himself just as he felt himself react. While this newfound affection for her struck him with a wave of passion and delight, he also felt overcome by shame for his lust. As Orsted spent more time with her, he found that Gwaelin's beauty was not simply lovely to behold but also due to her virtue of purity which drew admiration during a time of growing licentiousness. In addition, Gwaelin was the future queen of Tantegel, and his duty was solely to escort her safely home. With that, Orsted arose and sought medical attention for his shoulder.

* * *

The cleansing Gwaelin received from the bath went beyond that of the physical nature. She felt as though the herbal fragrances purified her from her trauma of the past half year, and as she grabbed a towel and stepped out, she felt she was emerging completely renewed. With this renewal came a clarity of thought, and at once she was certain that her desires for Orsted were free from the superficial vices of infatuation. She was not simply attracted to him. She was in love with him.

The realization filled her with a surprising sense of enchantment and serenity she knew she would have lacked if she had acknowledged her feelings any sooner. However, a few concerns remained. Did Orsted feel the same and if so, would he confess his feelings to her? Being a princess, a love confession was no simple matter of courageously standing against the fear of rejection. It was often a matter of status. People generally dismissed any affection felt for royalty unless they were oh high class or commanded the respect of the King such as Erik. Would her rescue provide Orsted with enough recognition from her father so that he would feel free to speak his mind to her if he indeed felt the same?

Gwaelin had no answer, and as she sauntered to the town plaza, she met another who also lacked closure.

* * *

As Orsted was being treated, his shame vanished and memories of Gwaelin's perplexing behavior resurfaced. Normally he would draw on his past experiences to aid him in such puzzling times, but having only had one girlfriend (and in his adolescent years no less), he found he lacked the proper knowledge. In addition to asking him to carry her, he often caught her regarding him when she thought he was unaware.

Before he could delve any further, he noticed Gwaelin conversing with two ladies in the town plaza. Curiously, Orsted approached, catching only small portions of the conversation, which he eventually surmised that the younger of the two ladies was referring to her missing husband. At once, she began sobbing, and Gwaelin instinctively drew her into a hug, noticing Orsted as she did.

"Cleo, it may not be what you think," Gwaelin hopefully suggested, "perhaps he cannot return to you now. Alefgard is dangerous and maybe he is forced to take solace in another town…"

The older woman glanced apprehensively at Orsted. "Can I help you?"

"My friend, Orsted," Gwaelin spoke, gesturing to him, "travels extensively and we can ask him to keep an eye out for your husband."

A glimmer of hope shone in Cleo's eyes as she turned to him. "Will you, sir?"

Orsted hesitated a moment, uncertain whether he should fill Cleo with false hope, before nodding. "Yes, I will let him know you are waiting for him."

Cleo thanked them profusely, and it was as Orsted carried Gwaelin to the inn that she regarded him with puzzlement. "Why were you so reluctant to tell Cleo you will look for her husband?"

Orsted glanced at her momentarily and sighed. "I just didn't want to fill her with false hope when her husband could be dead or having an affair."

"Always the pessimist…" Gwaelin muttered, and when Orsted gazed at her perplexedly she added, "Sometimes you need something to hope in. I had to hope that I would be rescued or else I wouldn't have endured my captivity. And I still have hope now…"

Orsted was awestruck and it took him a moment to respond. "I guess I didn't see it that way…"

He resumed walking, suddenly aware that the elderly woman who shared her dream with him was regarding him with amusement. She winked at him once, before shuffling towards her abode. Orsted was so overcome with the memory of her dream and wondering the meaning behind it that it took him several minutes to reengage in the conversation with Gwaelin.

"Gwaelin…" he trailed until he could feel her gazing at him. "What do you hope for now?"

She giggled, before responding, "You'll just have to figure that one out on your own!"

Orsted spent much of the night attempting to.

* * *

Seeing the man of her dreams enter Brecconary with the princess in his arms filled her with jealousy so extreme that was only mollified by thoughts of retribution. She knew her vengeance would likely not be permanent, but she could at least have some fun and stir up some trouble while she was at it! Using the pond as a mirror, she adjusted her hair so two strands framed her face and tied her dress so that her cleavage rose and fell enticingly with each breath she took. Then, observing the pair, she waited for her opportunity as shrewdly as a hawk waits for its prey to emerge. Seeing it as once as Orsted left the princess while he checked into the inn, she approached.

* * *

Gwaelin could not believe she stepped foot in Brecconary, a town so close to the castle, yet her father still forbid her to see it. She gazed around, content to explore the charming town and all it had to offer with Orsted, before her attention was drawn to a scantily clad lady regarding her. Seeing that she was noticed, she strolled forward with catlike grace.

"I'm happy to see you are safe, your highness…and my, what an attractive escort Sir Orsted makes!"

Bewildered, Gwaelin responded. "How do you know Orsted?"

The scantily clad maiden's eyes glimmered seductively, and Gwaelin instantly wished she hadn't asked.

"Why, the silly man hasn't mentioned me? We had a relationship…well I guess you could call it that, your highness." She stepped closer and whispered. "You see, it was a union based more on self-gratification than on…"

Gwaelin heard no more of the conversation, and was instead focused on the disbelief that rose within her. It was as if they were talking about two different people, and although Gwaelin knew this lady was likely exaggerating, her insecurity encouraged her to believe it. Perhaps it was she and her virtue that was unworthy of Orsted.


	8. A Token of Affection

A Token of Affection

Orsted, knowing that it was only a matter of time before word reached the King that Gwaelin was in Brecconary, desired to enjoy the evening with Gwaelin, however, she did not seem intent on the same. It was as he approached her after checking into the inn that he realized something in her had changed, and this went beyond her demeanor or disposition. It was every aspect of her. As he drew closer, her usual enchantment and delightful gasps as she took in her surroundings had vanished, leaving in its place a cool and aloof temperament. It felt as if he were beholding a stranger. Although she smiled at him, a glance into her emerald eyes revealed a contrasting melancholy to her usual vivacious nature. Gazing deeper, he noticed a hint of disappointment, beseeching him to explain himself.

_Explain what?_ Orsted wondered.

Gwaelin, sensing that he saw behind her forced smile, sighed. "Thank you for bringing me here, Orsted…If you don't mind, I would like to be alone for awhile."

"Is everything alright?" He asked, perplexed.

Gwaelin somberly nodded and turned to leave.

"Gwaelin!" he called, prompting her to regard him first with surprise and then with a sudden anticipation. He stood, transfixed by the flicker of hope which passed from her eyes to his, and realized to his dismay that he could not offer any profound words that he suspected would satisfy her anticipation. Instead, all he could conjure was a meek, "Have a nice walk."

Although the disillusion only flickered a moment in Gwaelin's eyes, it remained ingrained in Orsted's mind as he watched her turn and stroll towards the gulf aligning the southeastern part of town. Each step she took seemed weighted by the burden she carried, impressing upon Orsted the realization that his words only further burdened her.

* * *

Seeing that her ploy had been successful, she delayed a moment to ensure dejection settled in before approaching the object of her affections.

"Well hello there, handsome!" she greeted him.

Orsted glanced up, and she did not miss the iciness in his gaze as he regarded her. "Imposter, I am in no mood to deal with your meddling today."

_Ouch, _she thought. _I almost don't have to feign offense this time._

"My Lord!" she gasped. "You think I'm here to aggravate you? It is quite the contrary I assure you!" She ignored his skeptical glance and continued. "I truly feel bad about deceiving you before, and after seeing you so disheartened, I thought I could make it up to you."

Orsted rose in disgust, and to her realization, fully intended to turn away.

"Hear me out, my lord!" she pleaded. "I know that expression anywhere. You're having girl trouble, aren't you?"

Orsted stopped in his tracks, but did not turn around. Believing she commanded his attention, she resumed speaking. It was when, after several minutes, he interrupted her saying he had to go and sprinted towards the Princess that she realized she hadn't waited long enough for his dismay to seize him. Cursing herself, she fretted that it may be too late for her to interfere with his blossoming romance any further.

* * *

Unbeknownst to the imposter, Orsted had not heard a word of her speech and had instead been fixated on Gwaelin the entire time. She strolled, completely disenchanted, around the gulf, catching Orsted by surprise as she turned to regard him. Her expression, initially shocked that she caught Orsted gazing at her, transformed to one that Orsted found resembled his own from days ago.

While in Kol, Orsted noticed Gwaelin arose early one morning and in seeking her, he found her conversing with a young gentleman in the plaza. Seeing her giggle gleefully at something he said, stirred an impulsive jealousy in Orsted that compelled him to ignore his caution and approach the pair. It wasn't until he drew closer that he recognized the man as a friend of Nester who was notorious for getting lost in various towns. The realization that Gwaelin was merely helping him caused Orsted's jealousy to subside.

Finding that Gwaelin was currently experiencing a similar sentiment, her mutual affection for him finally became apparent, and he could only imagine what misunderstanding the imposter had given her. Hustling towards her, the twinges of jealousy seemed to fade from her face, but his pressing confession was halted as she turned away from him.

"Gwaelin…" he started, hoping she would face him. She didn't to his disappointment, but he continued nevertheless. "I think I understand…I don't know what she told you, but believe me when I say that there was nothing between us."

At this, she turned and regarded him stoically. "It's alright, Orsted…I mean, it really doesn't matter, does it?"

"Doesn't it?" he asked, causing her to gaze at him curiously.

He grinned, watching with anticipation as the need for words vanished and her confusion was replaced with the astonishing intuition that he shared her feelings. Then, seeing at once her enlightenment, he eagerly closed the distance between them. He leaned down and she met his kiss with hunger and delight. Her full and enticing lips tasted faintly of honeysuckle stirring in Orsted the notion that he now possessed a security and clarity his life had lacked before. What began as a gentle caressing of their lips soon progressed to a passionate display of affection as the love and desire conveyed within threatened to overwhelm them both. Feeling himself beginning to throw his inhibitions aside as she molded her perfect contours against him, the reminder of the public subdued his desire and he reluctantly broke the kiss.

"Oh, Orsted…" she whispered, blushing as she became reoriented to their open surroundings. "I never imagined it would be like this."

Catching his breath, he shook his head. "Nor did I…"

"Must we return to Tantegel tonight?" Gwaelin asked, clasping his hands tenderly.

Orsted squeezed her hands and drew her into an embrace. "I wish we didn't have to, but I fear we must now that we've arrived in Breconnary. I don't believe your father would understand why I kept you in harm's way any longer than necessary."

Gwaelin's sweet breath tickled his ear as she sighed against him. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Knowing my father, he might even forbid our romance. Shall we, my hero?"

Orsted swept her into his arms and the pair warped to TantegelCastle.

* * *

The glee Gwaelin relished at winning Orsted's affections far trumped any disappointment she felt towards returning to Tantegel. The kiss she shared with Orsted was more romantic than even her imagination could conjure, and her vile kiss with the DragonLord was but a distant memory. She now anticipated peace to such a degree that she was willing to part ways with Orsted while he trained for his encounter with the DragonLord, knowing his victory would bring them together again in the future.

As the two entered the castle gates, the sentries began their usual greeting, ceasing the moment they noticed her.

"Welcome to Tan…Princess Gwaelin! You're safe! Orsted, hurry along!"

Orsted strode forward and encountered Ellen, whose eyes glimmered with tears of joy. "I…it ca…can't be…Th…tha…that's Pri…Princess Gwaelin!"

Gwaelin gently touched Orsted's shoulder and he knowingly set her down. She eagerly embraced Ellen, who tenderly stroked her hair.

"You're safe and sound!" Ellen whispered. "I must be dreaming…but this can wait." She released Gwaelin and turned to Orsted. "Hurry with the Princess to the King! Oh, he'll be so happy!"

Orsted embraced Gwaelin again, and the pair continued forward, suddenly encountering Erik. Despite her time apart from him, she found that he still stirred a level of disgust in her to a degree that she vowed she would confide her troubles in her father as soon as she settled in. Thankfully, Erik reeked of booze, but he regretfully still noticed them.

"Oh, where could you be Princess Gwaelin? Through my anguish I have envisioned the very form of your body right before me. Oh…"

He collapsed in a heap, and Orsted hastily moved forward revealing to Gwaelin that he shared a similar sentiment of Erik.

Ascending the stairs to the throne room, they drew the attention of the chancellor whose mouth gaped in shock.

"Orsted, you are a magnificent hero! I always knew you would rescue her!"

Orsted humbly nodded then approached the King, setting Gwaelin down as he bowed before him. Although the King maintained a patriarchal composure, Gwaelin noticed his quivering lips, realizing how much he missed her.

"Ah Orsted! You have returned from rescuing the Princess! I wish to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Gwaelin…" he gently spoke, turning to her, "come now to my side."

Gwaelin nodded, hoping her next statement would not come as a shock. "I will father, but please wait while I give a token to Orsted."

"Orsted…" she spoke, beckoning him to rise. "Please accept this…" she proffered a heart-shaped ruby pendant given to her by her mother.

During her childhood, her mother gifted her with a pendant that she claimed possessed magical properties that would be unveiled when given to the man she loved. She had never removed it from her neck except in captivity because she feared the DragonLord would confiscate it for his own purposes. Despite the fact that she hid it away and scarcely removed it from her hiding place, she drew great comfort knowing it was near- as if her mother too had kept her company in her captivity. Now, she could not wait to learn the secret behind it!

"Orsted, I wish I could travel with you on your journey, but because I cannot, I wish to gift you with this and pray it provides you with the same protection it has given me. Please accept this, my love."

He reached forward, clasping her delicate hand in his calloused one as he grasped the pendant. Forgetting her reservations about her father, she drew Orsted into an embrace, kissing him on the cheek.

"I love you, Orsted, and even if we are separated, my heart will always be with you," she whispered, forgetting to mention the magical properties.

Feeling him tighten the embrace, her heart surged as he replied. "I love you too."

Her father suddenly cleared his throat, and the two broke apart, Gwaelin again fretting over the lecture she feared he would give her once Orsted left. However, she dismissed the fear and strolled towards her throne next to her father. Having been so long since she graced the royal seat, she fidgeted with the pillow which regained its firmness in her absence. Her father addressed Orsted and much to her dismay, he was whispering preventing her from determining the nature of his words.

_Please approve of Orsted, father, _she silently pleaded. _I don't know what I'll do if you refuse…_

* * *

The King gazed at Orsted's kneeling form with a renewed respect for his strength, wondering why he doubted him previously. He was, after all, a descendant of Erdrick, and as such was capable of great feats. However, the reluctance he initially sensed in him had long since vanished and been replaced by an acceptance of his ancestry. Surely, there was hope for Alefgard! Feeling the cloud of despair dissipating, he straightened his shoulders and spoke in a hushed voice so Gwaelin would not overhear.

"Orsted, you have returned from rescuing my daughter, and now I must profess my true feelings…" he trailed, compelling Orsted to meet his eyes. "I'll never forget about this day for the rest of my life. I wish to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Now…please let me know how we can support you in defeating the DragonLord."

"I will, your majesty," Orsted promised, then beamed at Gwaelin as he turned to leave.

Watching as he strolled confidently from the throne room until the echo of his footsteps could no longer be heard, the King turned to address the guards and chancellor.

"Please leave me alone with my daughter," he sternly commanded.

The three men bowed in unison. "Yes, sire!"

He waited until he was ensured of their privacy, then hurried to Gwaelin, drawing her into his arms.

"Oh, Gwaelin!" he exclaimed, unable to prevent joyful tears from emerging and taking residence in his beard. Gwaelin silently stroked his back, and it took him many moments to realize that she likewise softly wept. Releasing her, he gently wiped her tears with his aged hand.

"You cannot imagine how much I've missed you," he spoke, as he caught another of her tears. "When my search parties failed, I feared I'd never see you again! If it weren't for Orsted…"

At the mention of his name, Gwaelin's tears ceased and a glance swept over her face as tenderly as one gazes at a newborn and as amorous as a gaze between the betrothed. Suddenly, he realized that her affection for Orsted went beyond the love of friendship. As any father to a daughter, he always knew this day would come, and he found he could not be happier at her choice of a husband.

"Father, about Orsted…" she started.

"I know," he interjected, causing her to glance at him apprehensively.

"You mean, you approve?" she questioned, her emerald eyes dancing with the hope that often caused him to relent ever since faced with the typical mischief of early childhood.

The King chuckled. "Approve of him? Yes…And not just because he rescued you, although that is reason enough, but he is an honorable man. However…" he added, seeing his approval caused her heart to soar as if she would take flight at any moment. "I cannot have you distracting him, Gwaelin. He is on a very important quest to defeat the DragonLord and he may very well be our last hope."

Gwaelin nodded. "I understand, father. I will give him my love and support."

"And as soon as peace returns to Alefgard," he continued, "I will grant you two my blessing and the throne."

"The throne?" Gwaelin gasped. "But father, I'm not ready!"

"You will be, my dear," he spoke tenderly, clasping her hands. "And you will have Orsted to share the duty."

"I see…" Gwaelin replied distantly, compelling the King to wonder if he revealed too soon that his death was soon approaching.

* * *

Erik, having sobered, could not believe all that had transpired during his drunken haze. The Princess really did return, and worst of all, Orsted was her rescuer! He recalled the vision he had of Orsted affectionately embracing the Princess in his arms, and suddenly a rage settled over him, granting him a single impulse. He must see the Princess! He must see for himself whether she really had given her love to one as repulsive as Orsted!

Finding her in the gardens chaperoned by a sentry, he was reminded of their visit a half year prior. Perhaps she would remember the promise he made. Lost in a daydream, she did not notice him at first, instead content to pluck a rose and bring it to nose in delight. It was when she glanced towards the sun, wearing an expression of such joy as if it shone just for her that she noticed him. At once, she dropped the rose and inadvertently stepped back.

"Oh!" she gasped.

Erik nodded to the sentry and motioned for him to leave. Too afraid to disobey, he complied despite the urging in the Princess' face to remain with her. Seeing that it was just the two of them, he returned his attention to the Princess, whose presence still managed to capture his breath and draw forth a yearning in him he had never before experienced.

"Welcome home, your highness. I am glad to see you unharmed, although I am disappointed that it was not I who rescued you."

The Princess stared silently at him, appearing to maintain a strong resolve. Her trembling lips gave her away.

"Now that you have returned, I am pleased to see you are enjoying the rose bush I planted in your honor with the seed, symbolizing the beginning of our courtship."

He watched as she glanced in disgust at the rose she held just a moment ago, and seizing her distraction, he stepped forward, catching her hands.

"Let's seal this sacred place, our place, with a kiss."

Breaking free with surprising strength, she found her voice, her defiance causing her to respond with resolve she would soon regret. "Never! I could list many more repulsive things I would rather kiss than to ever…"

Infuriated, he rushed forward and grasped her hands, loosening his grip only when she gasped in pain. Her gasp temporarily subsided his rage.

"So it is true then," he spoke, feigning dismay. "You are in love with Orsted, aren't you?" Seeing that she refused to confirm his discovery, his frustration rose. "Answer me!"

She jumped in surprise, struggling to free herself again, but this time he was prepared. In surrender, she returned her attention to him.

"Yes, Orsted and I are betrothed and shall be wed once peace returns."

Erik chuckled. "Then I need not worry because that day will never come! Perhaps I'll even luck out and he'll die in the process!"

Distracted by his laughter, he did not see the ire his quip produced in her eyes. With renewed force, she pushed him against the rosebush, causing the thorns to press against him. In agony, his released her with one hand to regain his balance, maintaining his hold on her with the other. Though she struggled to pry his fingers off, she could not, and once he was free of the thorns, he glowered at her.

"How dare you!" he bellowed, then thought better of it so as not to draw attention to them. "Let's make this simple. I will challenge Orsted to a match to the death. If he wins, you will be rid of me. If I win-"

"I would despise you forever," the Princess finished, causing him to glance at her in confusion. "If you won, I would still not marry you and would throw myself off the cliff overlooking the gulf. You will never have me, Sir Erik."

It was this remark and the acceptance of the truth behind it that prevented him from restraining his fury any longer. He clasped her chin, preparing to kiss her by force, and it was at that moment that Orsted was upon him. In his surprise, Erik lost his grip on Gwaelin, and Orsted with sword drawn, used his shield to firmly detain him against the courtyard wall.

"You've gotten away with too much for too long now, Sir Erik, but did you realy believe you would get away with threatening Gwaelin?"

It wasn't the words that frightened Erik as much as how calmly they were relayed. If Orsted could remain calm now and still detain him, what power was he capable of under rage? Erik now realized he was currently no match for Orsted and to challenge him when he had the advantage would be folly. No…he would bide his time and wait for Orsted to drop his guard. If he couldn't have the Princess, he would ensure no one would. Swallowing his pride, a true feat for him, he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Orsted. I am out of line and I let my frustration get the better of me."

Orsted looked unconvinced as he firmly replied. "Leave now…you will never bother Gwaelin again and you can expect that this mater will be confided in the King."

Erik nodded. "I understand and will accept the punishment due to me."

"No Erik," Orsted sternly replied. "If you ever threaten Gwaelin again I will take the punishment into my own hands."

Orsted detained him a moment more before releasing him, keeping his sword on him until he exited. Although out of sight, he could not prevent from hearing their joyous reunion, instilling in him all the more ambition to get his retribution started before he was relieved from his command again.


	9. Framed

Framed

"It was so terrifying, Orsted…" Gwaelin spoke, voice trembling as she informed Orsted about her encounter with Erik. "I really didn't know what he was going to do…"

She shuddered as she remembered the feeling of Erik's coarse hand on her chin. She just couldn't understand why he persisted in wooing her despite her consistent refusals and worse yet, why her father even kept Erik on staff. She had confided her concerns in her father before, but he often encouraged her to overlook the offense because 'Erik was only being friendly and asking for a simple dinner.'

_Well, this time he went too far! _Gwaelin resolved.

Orsted drew her into a secure embrace, quieting her disconcerting thoughts. "I won't let any harm come to you," he promised as he tenderly stroked her hair. Being this close to him reminded her of their kiss, and while she longed to experience more intimacy with him, a pressing question resurfaced.

"Say, Orsted…" Gwaelin trailed, "There is something I don't understand...You arrived at just the right moment when Erik was harassing me. How did you know I was in peril and how did you know where to locate me?"

Releasing her, he paced forward a moment, wearing a deeply pensive expression she had only seen on him while camping in the meadow when he claimed to hear a disturbing noise. His back to her, he considered a second, removing the pendant from his pocket as he replied.

"I know this sounds strange, but I was admiring your pendant when I heard you crying out to me," he paused and turned to face her. "While holding your pendant, I followed your voice and it led me to you. Is that strange or what?"

Gwaelin gasped. "So that's the power my mom meant!"

"Power?" he questioned, glancing from the pendant to her.

Gwaelin nodded and then informed him that her mother mentioned the true gift of the pendant lay in the power unveiled when given to the object of one's affections.

"It seems when I think of you," she concluded, "that we have the ability to communicate even across great distances if you are also holding the pendant."

"In that case," Orsted said, unclasping the necklace and fastening it to his belt, "I will never remove it!"

Gwaelin giggled. "But Orsted, don't you think you'll look peculiar wearing a lady's necklace?"

Orsted considered. "Perhaps so, but not as peculiar as telling them why I'm wearing it!"

The two lovers shared many more laughs as they strolled around the courtyard, hands entwined. Admiring the setting sun, the pair paused to share an electrifying kiss, temporarily displacing any concerns. Had they been less enamored, they might have noticed that Orsted's pack, which rested by the courtyard entrance, was slightly ajar. They at least might have overheard their eavesdropper murmur, "Enjoy your bliss while it lasts."

* * *

Gwaelin's initial relief that Erik would never harass her again was stifled as soon as Orsted resumed his travels. Although Erik submitted to Orsted's strength, she knew Erik's pride was another matter and was not a force to be reckoned with. It was this realization that presented her with the notion that it was only a matter of time before Erik's vengeance reared its ugly head. Immediately, she sought to confide her concern in her father, who to her dismay, was in a meeting with the chancellor and his other advisers. Deciding her concern could wait, she returned to her room and collapsed on her bed. Thinking of Orsted, she was suddenly startled as he connected with her.

_It's about time you thought about me! _he teased.

_Oh, and I'm sure you've been thinking about me all day, _she replied, giggling as she did.

She realized her mistake as the guard posted outside the room opened the door. "Princess, are you alright? I thought I heard something."

Though communicating telepathically with Orsted, she found she had to remind herself not to speak aloud. That included laughter, gasps or other responsive noises. If she kept this up, the whole kingdom was bound to think she had gone mad during her captivity!

"Oh, I just remembered a funny event from yesterday. Sorry for startling you," she replied, wishing the guard would leave. Her father's added protection was quickly becoming overbearing!

"I see…I shall be outside your highness."

She waited until she was sure he left, which she later found funny because it's not like he would hear their conversation anyway!

_Sorry, a guard entered, _she explained to Orsted who she sensed chuckled.

_Again? You better learn to control those animations of yours, my love, or you'll have some explaining to do! But to address your comment earlier, yes, you have been on my mind all day…_

Her heart fluttered wildly at the realization that he was thinking of her despite the trials on his journey.

_You forget, my love, that I can hear you thoughts, _he teased, _and I suppose since this made you so happy, I shouldn't say that part of the reason I'm thinking of you so much is that your pendant keeps clanking against my armor whenever I walk!_

Forgetting to silence her animations, she gasped. _Oh, you! I would hit you right now if you were here!_

Suddenly, the door flew open and the sentry reentered, this time with his sword drawn. "I heard you and just wanted to be sure there was no trouble!"

Sighing, she fought to control her irritation. "You heard me gasp…listen, if this is any trouble I promise you I will scream and you will know something is amiss. Jumping at every noise I make is getting a little tiresome, don't you think?"

The guard blushed, and Gwaelin instantly felt remorse for her curtness. "I apologize, your highness…" he started.

Gwaelin shook her head. "No, it is I who am sorry. I know you are only following my father's orders. I'm going over to the balcony, but why don't I leave the door open so you'll know I'm okay?"

"Yes, princess!" the guard said, brightening.

Moving to the balcony, she gazed at the setting sun as it illuminated such magnificence over the courtyard. Instantly, she wished Orsted were here to share it with her.

_I am here…_he reminded her.

Gwaelin sighed longingly. _Yes, I know, but it's not the same…Where are you now?_

_I'm in the rock mountain cave searching for the Fighter's Ring. _

Gwaelin gasped, taken aback. _You're in a cave? Orsted, shouldn't you be paying attention? What if one of the DragonLord's minions sneaks up on you and you don't defend yourself because you're distracted by me?_

Orsted seemed to sigh. _Gwaelin…I thought we weren't going to do this. I know you are worried and there is a lot that can happen, but you have to trust me, my love. Right now, I am exhausted and taking a break in an area I surrounded by fairy water wanting nothing more than to talk to my beautiful princess._

Gwaelin could feel her cheeks flushing. _I'm sorry, Orsted. You are right and I can't live in constant worry. I love you…please be safe, my hero._

_I love you and will return to you soon, _he promised.

As their conversation ended, Gwaelin felt a reassuring peace enter her and she knew that even if her father didn't rid the kingdom of Erik, she knew Orsted would never let harm come to her.

* * *

Orsted, determining it was best to setup camp before nightfall, unpacked his belongings, noticing a wrapped package fall at his feet. Curiously, he brought it closer, detecting a hint of lavender as he did. _A gift from Gwaelin?_ He wondered. Opening the package, he carefully removed the leather necklace within adorned with what he recognized as the crest of the royal family.

_That was nice of her, _Orsted thought. _I will be sure to pick her up a gift for our next visit._

The recollection that Gwaelin despised lavender was buried beneath his fascination as he unfastened the clasp and secured it around his neck. It was at that moment that the depth of his folly was revealed and the necklace began constricting him. Desperately he fumbled with the necklace and to his horror found that the clasp had broken! Struggling to tear the necklace from him, he soon resorted to attempting to cut it unsuccessfully with his sword.

"I see the necklace fits you perfectly," a menacing voice spoke.

Through his blurring vision, Orsted discerned it was Erik who stood before him. Suddenly, he realized the extent of his peril, however he was helpless to do much more than gasp for air. Feeling himself begin to lose consciousness, he suddenly felt mild relief from the constriction.

Erik chuckled as Orsted attempted to meet his gaze. "I slid a piece of leather underneath the necklace. You didn't really think I'd let you die so quickly, did you? After all, I've heard that death by strangulation allows the victim to die while unconscious." Erik paused to clutch Orsted's longish chestnut hair and adjust the angle of his head until their eyes met. "And I despise you too much to allow you that luxury."

His vision was still somewhat blurred, and he continued to gasp for air suddenly feeling Erik hoist him over his shoulder as if he were cattle. Struggling, Orsted attempted to wriggle out of Erik's grasp, until he spoke.

"Be careful…you might cause that piece of leather I generously provided you with to loosen, and that's the only one I have," Erik ominously warned.

Accepting the truth behind his warning, Orsted ceased his struggles and determined his efforts would be better spent devising a way to freedom. Unfortunately, he did not have the energy to chant the spell to return to Breconnary where he could visit the villager who promised to help him if he had the misfortune of equipping cursed gear. In addition, he needed to see how Erik intended to dispose of him so he could ascertain his predicament.

"Hmm…" Erik considered. "Perhaps right here is a good spot for your grave. Why don't you have a look?"

Nothing could have prepared Orsted for the plan Erik's sinister mind conjured. Without warning, Erik released him and he landed with a splash in the poisonous marsh. Turning him so he was face up, Erik again directed Orsted's gaze upward.

"Don't worry. I won't let you drown either, nor…" he paused to vanquish an approaching scorpion in one blow, "allow you to fall at the hand of one of the DragonLord's minions."

Orsted made out a vial Erik held which he identified as fairy water. Gasping for air and gritting his teeth against the immobilizing pain of the marsh, he observed as Erik sprinkled the water along the marsh's perimeter.

"There!" Erik exclaimed. "That should do the trick. Now…" he trailed, directing his attention to Orsted as he removed a warp wing from his pack. "I'll be generous and leave you with a little something to consider to help take your mind off the pain. Did you really think it would threaten me to know that you would divulge my visit with the Princess to his majesty? I tell you Orsted, you really are dense! The King believes he owes me and thus will continue to require to make restitution to me for the rest of my life. Why do you think that is? I'll leave you with that riddle to enjoy. This has been a pleasure Orsted, and I mean that!"

With that, Erik extended the wings and the oncoming breeze carried him swiftly away.

* * *

Unable to sleep, Ellen sauntered in the hallway, attempting in vain to silence the sinister foreboding which rang in her mind. She could not explain it, but she sensed that tonight she would learn the reason behind her apprehension of fulfilling Erik's favor. Wondering if it would be too intrusive to confide her concerns in the Princess, she glanced towards the stairs leading to the royal bedrooms. Deciding that it was better to inform the Princess of a possible threat than to feign indifference, she approached the stairs. It was on the third step when a terrified shriek resounded throughout the castle.

* * *

Upon hearing the scream, the King bolted up and assured he and Gwaelin were secured together. He would not have a repeat of several months ago! After what seemed like an eternity, a guard entered to provide an update.

"My liege, one of the castle guards had the misfortune of equipping a cursed belt! We summoned the expert from Breconnary and he is being tended to now."

The King sighed with relief. "Excellent!" he started to say more, but noticed the guard's apprehensive expression.

The guard, glancing quickly at Gwaelin, proffered a note. "We discovered this on the package he opened containing he belt."

Glancing at it, the King's eyes widened. "The belt was from Ellen? Ellen did this?"

Gwaelin suddenly seized the note, staring in disbelief.

"It's in her handwriting, isn't it?" the King gently asked.

Gwaelin's silence provided him the confirmation he needed. Although he found it hard to believe Ellen was capable of such a gruesome crime, he had to take action.

"Arrest her!" he commanded the guard.

* * *

While her father participated in the interrogations amongst the castle staff, Gwaelin used his distraction to her benefit and visited Ellen in the dungeon. As she descended the winding stairs, the sentry posted at the cell door barred her way.

"I beg your pardon, highness, but the King issued me strict orders not to allow anyone passage. That includes you, Princess…"

Gwaelin regarded him sternly, noticing the guard refused to meet her eyes. "I see…but one detail my father neglected to mention is that Ellen is my personal handmaiden and as such all disciplinary measures rest in my hands."

The guard nervously glanced from her to the door, as if expecting to King to manifest at any moment. "Well, you see highness, I only have his orders and I must obey his command…"

Gwaelin maintained her calm composure. "Yes, I suppose I could ask my father to come down here himself, but he hasn't been in the greatest health lately. Or I could send you to interrupt his current interrogation, but you know how he hates interruptions."

The sentry stood momentarily paralyzed by ambivalence. "Well…"

"I'll just be a minute," Gwaelin interjected, "and if my father has any issues I will accept all consequences."

Brightening, the guard nodded feebly before unlocking the cell. "You may pass, highness."

Gwaelin stepped through, immediately dumbfounded at the sight before her. Ellen was chained to the stone wall, eyes downcast and seemingly apathetic to the rodents scurrying around her. Blinking back tears, she softly called her friend.

"Ellen…"

At the mention of her name by the familiar voice, she glanced up in astonishment. "Princess? What are you doing here?"

Gwaelin longed to rush to her friend and embrace her, but she feared the guard may be eavesdropping through the barred door and such a reaction would appear contradictory to the interrogation she described. Instead, she raised a finger to her lips and without moving her head, glanced to the door. Ellen nodded and Gwaelin stepped forward, clasping her wrist as guards of Alefgard did when interrogating a suspect. Such a practice was said to be used to determine whether an individual was giving false testimony. However, Gwaelin's true intent was to devise a code so that the guard could not discern the true nature of their conversation. She figured she would tap her index finger against Ellen's wrist once when she spoke a true statement and twice for everything otherwise. She only hoped she could get Ellen to understand in time.

"I know you have committed a terrible crime," Gwaelin tapped her finger twice, and seeing Ellen's confusion quickly continued. "And you know I am a harsh ruler," she tapped twice again.

Ellen glanced from Gwaelin to her wrist curiously, and Gwaelin nodded.

"You know how much I love my kingdom," she said, tapping once then added. "I will punish you most severely for this," she said, tapping twice.

Seeing at once Ellen's enlightened expression, Gwaelin favored Ellen with a grateful smile.

"What possessed you to do such a thing?" she questioned Ellen.

Ellen considered a moment, attempting to get into the mindset of this new communication style. "I wanted to do a favor," she said, tapping once.

"A favor for a friend of yours?"

"Yes," Ellen replied, tapping twice.

_Not a friend of Ellen's? Gwaelin could only think of two people who could ever despise someone as sweet-natured as Ellen._

"Are you referring to the head of maids?" Gwaelin inquired, hoping it was not her second guess. At least the head of the maids would be easier to discipline.

"No," Ellen said, tapping once.

Her fears confirmed, Gwaelin posed the next question. "Are you sure you are not referring to the captain of the guards?"

"No, of course not," Ellen quickly replied, tapping twice. "Why would he want to get me in trouble?"

Gwaelin would have laughed at her ridiculous statement if it weren't for the guard, who she was now certain was eavesdropping. She earlier heard the clank of his chainmail as he crouched against the door. Wishing more than ever that she could speak straight-forwardly with Ellen and hear the entire story, she sighed feigning frustration at her.

"Ellen, I have had it with you!" she paused to tap twice. "You will tell me who you got the belt from before we are through. Did this individual threaten you? Is that why you are refusing to confide in me?"

Ellen's fearful eyes revealed all Gwaelin needed to know, but she tapped twice anyway. "No, this friend had no reason for vengeance."

"Did someone ask you to write the note on the gift?"

"No," she replied, tapping twice. "I wouldn't give a gift and forget to sign it!"

Now she knew what happened! Erik feigned forgetfulness, saying he forgot to write the note for the package he asked her to deliver and asked if Ellen wouldn't mind writing it for him. Her handwriting was the true favor, and what a predicament Erik left her in! She did not know how to draw more information out of Ellen, and judging by the fear in her eyes, she did not know if Ellen knew anymore than she. Why would Erik do this? Erik referred to the castle help as "lowly-handmaidens" so this surely went beyond a simple matter of restitution for whatever small offense Ellen did to him. Still, she couldn't leave her friend in despair.

"I see…Perhaps Orsted can help when he returns. I will be sure to call on him," Gwaelin spoke, tapping once.

The mention of Orsted caused Ellen to smile with relief. What Gwaelin did not share is that it had been two days since she last heard from him and she was becoming worried. The two shared their telepathic connection while he was in a cave and clear across Alefgard. Surely distance did not interfere with their connection. The only other possibility was…

No, she promised him she would stop thinking so fearfully! The minute Orsted left, she vowed to herself she would not give into despair and incessant worry as she considered all of the terrible threats Orsted would be facing. However, as much as she tried to dispel it, the nagging doubt resurfaced. What if he needed help and she acted too late?


End file.
